A Second Chance
by musicmagic7
Summary: Do you ever get a Second Chance with the one person whose heart you broke beyond repair? Ron Weasley is about to find out. Ron/Hermione fic, with minor Ron/Lavender at beginning. Rated T plus for stronger language and themes. Please Read and Review.
1. Prologue: A Huge Mistake

Prologue for A Second Chance: A Ron and Hermione fic

Standing by the window, Ron fiddled with his tie, and smoothed his tuxedo. His crisp white shirt, smooth lapel, and the pink flower in his pocket, all reminded him of what he was about to do. He gulped, and turned around to face the mirror. He had to admit, he looked quite handsome, and he knew Lavender would be pleased. _Lavender. _

Today was his wedding day. He was happy, but for some reason he couldn't explain, he was nervous; He was shaking. He quickly sat himself down on the edge of the bed, put his head in his hands, and took deep breaths, one after the other. Someone knocked on the door. Without looking up, he answered "Come in."

"How's it going," he heard an unmistakable voice ask and he looked up to see Harry.

"Fine," he replied. He stood up, and tried to act normal.

But a pained expression passed quickly over his face, and Harry didn't miss it.

"Ron," he began, but he seemed to be struggling with what to say. Instead he said, "Mate, I know you _think_ Lavender is the one, but-"

Ron cut him off: "I don't just think she's the one, Harry. I _know_ she's the one. _I love her._"

"I know you do, mate, but… is that enough?"

Ron was taken aback. "What do you mean?" he said.

"I don't know Ron. I just think…. I think your relationship with Lavender has always been about… well, the physical things. Whereas, there is another girl, who used to be important to you, and… and she still… she still loves you. She always has. I think… I think you're making a _huge_ mist-"

"I don't know what you're talking about Harry."

Ron gave Harry a look that said, 'Back off. I know what I'm doing.'

Harry looked at his feet, and shook his head. Ron pretended not to notice.

Harry was opening old wounds, and Ron wasn't happy with it. Of course, he knew _exactly_ whom Harry was talking about, but he didn't want to hear. He didn't want to hurt. He had loved _her _once, but that was ancient history. That had been before the fight and since then he'd matured. _They _had never been possible.

"How do I look?" Ron asked.

Harry looked up at him. "You look like… like a groom."

Ron nodded, took one look in the mirror, and headed out of his room.

When he was gone, Harry looked at the mirror, and mumbled to where Ron was once, "You look like an idiot." Harry knew, without a doubt, that Ron wasn't meant to be with Lavender, but with Hermione. Since a fight they'd had after the war, Ron and Hermione had hardly spoken. Hermione couldn't hide the hurt: It showed clearly in her eyes, even 5 years later. Ron hid it well, but Harry knew he regretted what had happened. But in less than an hour, Ron would marry Lavender.

In less than an hour, there would be no going back.

Or so, Harry thought.

***************

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	2. Left or Right?

**Chapter One: **

Ronald Weasley sat in his office, staring out the window. He ran a large, calloused hand through his thick red hair, and blew a strand out of his face. Sighing, he folded the leaflet on his desk in half, then in quarters, and then growing angry, he tore it apart, before throwing the pieces behind him.

He was just starting to bang his head on the desk when he heard a knock at the door.

Without bothering to ask who it was, he shouted, "Come in."

Harry Potter opened the door and stood on the threshold, before waving at Ron. The last time they'd been together, they'd had a fight, the same fight they'd been having for the past 2 years.

"What do you want?" Ron said.

Harry frowned, before coming farther into Ron's office.

"I want…" he said. "I want to apologize for… for the fight we keep having. I just- I just still can't believe you're married, even after 2 years."

"Why not, Harry? Am I so disgusting and argumentable that no woman should ever have wanted to marry me? Is that what you're saying?"

"No," Harry said. "I just can't believe you're married to _her. _Of all people! Lavender Brown! You said so yourself in third year that she was driving you insane! That all she wanted to do was snog you senseless and… I just don't get it."

"Yeah?" Ron asked. "Well, get this. I married Lavender because I love her and she loves me and that's not going to change. Who I love is not your choice, Harry Potter. Just because you're the Boy Who Lived, or the Chosen One, or whatever they call you, bloody hell, does not give you the right to tell me how to live my life!"

Ron stood up and his chair toppled out from behind him.

He grabbed his coat from a hook behind him and faced Harry, his eyes wide in frustration and anger.

"Don't come around anymore if you're just going to… whatever."

He threw his coat on and practically ran out the door. Harry shouted to him, "Your family misses you. They wish you'd come around more than once a year. Especially my wife."

"Piss off," Ron shouted back at him, without looking back, and then he turned on the spot and disappeared.

* * *

Ron appeared outside the flat he and Lavender lived in, and made his way to the door, before sticking his key in the lock. He closed the door behind him and sprinted up the stairs, before putting his second key in the lock to his door.

He walked through the short hallway to their kitchen and angrily threw his coat on a chair, before grabbing a firewhiskey from the pantry. As he sat down and the barstool squeaked on the linoleum, he heard Lavender yelp, and the sound of the closet door closing quickly.

"Honey?" he yelled out, and Lavender appeared in the doorway to their bedroom, wearing her bright pink robe, her cheeks flushed, and her hair wild.

Ron took another sip of his firewhiskey, still staring at her, and realized he found her quite appealing at that moment in time. He looked her up and down, grinning, and Lavender blushed guiltily.

"You're home early," she said, wrapping her robe around her even tighter, before walking into the kitchen. He nodded, but didn't explain.

She didn't question him further.

"Well," she said. "I have to go get ready for my girls night out."

She turned to go, but Ron stood up quickly and grabbed her wrist. She turned around and Ron leaned in close to her, their chests almost touching.

"I missed you," he said, and then looking at her chest closely, he realized the robe was all she was wearing.

"Are you naked underneath there?" he said. He grabbed her hips and tried to kiss her but she pulled away.

"I just got out of the shower," she said, pushing him away and walking to their bedroom door.

Ron frowned, looking at the back of her head. "Your hairs not wet."

She stopped walking and turned back to him. "Oh, right, erm… I was about to get _in_ the shower." She laughed artificially and Ron felt something akin to unease bubble in his stomach.

He ignored it though, and sat down on the couch, picking up the Daily Profit.

Harry was featured on the first page, unsurprisingly, and Ron scoffed, before turning to the Quidittch section.

An article there immediately caught his eye.

It stated at the top:

Hermione Granger, head of the Department of Equal Treatment of Magical Creatures, seeks to convert famous Quidittch players from enslaving their elves to paying them.

Ron flinched. He'd never seen _her _in the Daily Profit before, and he didn't even know she'd become head of a department.

Sighing, he flipped the page. He refused to read it, though his heart was telling him he should.

* * *

An hour later, Lavender apparated from their flat, after quickly kissing Ron on the cheek, after his insistence.

He sat back down on the couch, and closed his eyes. Without realizing he was doing so, Ron began to twirl his wand and gasped when cold water hit his face and soaked his shirt. Sighing, he stood up and went to his bathroom in the bedroom, pulling off his wet shirt and throwing it in the bathtub.

He walked into the bedroom and rifled through his drawer for another t-shirt. After putting in on, Ron glanced around the room, and realized that the bed was in a mess. The pillows were by the window and the sheets were tangled. He was sure Lavender had forced him to make the bad that morning, and once again, Ron felt worried.

But once again, he shook it off, and then he walked into the kitchen and made himself some dinner, downing another firewhiskey.

He hated fighting with his friends, though…

But he forced himself not to think about the one other _friend _he'd ever fought with.

Soon after, Ron collapsed on the couch, another firewhiskey in his hand and dozed off.

He dreamed that he was standing in the middle of Diagon Alley, alone on the street. He turned and looked to find Flourish and Blotts soon on his left, and Madame Malkin's robe shop on his right.

He was just turning to leave for the Leaky Cauldron, when he heard his name.

He turned to his right, and there was Lavender, her hair blowing in the wind, and wearing close to nothing. She smiled at him cheekily and he was about to go to her when he heard his name again.

On his left, coming out of Flourish and Blotts with a boatload of books in her arms, was Hermione.

Ron gasped as she stared at him. She was wearing the robes she had always worn at Hogwarts, the ones he had always loved her in. He stood between the two women, utterly confused and he was about to turn left when he woke up, sweating, and on the floor.

He pulled himself up, and sat back on the couch, before looking at the clock on the wall.

7:50 it showed.

Ron cursed, because he knew he was going to be late to work, and then would probably have to stay at work for an extra amount of time to make up for it.

After showering quickly, and throwing on his work clothes, he shouted to Lavender, who was half asleep on their bed, that he would be home late, and then he bounded out the door.

Lavender sat up in her bed, fully awake, and hummed a scandalous Weird Sisters song to herself. She pulled a quill and piece of parchment from beside her desk, and scribbled something, before hopping up, and reaching for her owl on his perch near the window. She tied the letter to his leg.

"Send this to Draco," she said, and the owl hooted before flying out the open window.

Lavender opened her closet door, grinning again, before pulling a red lace top out of an inconspicous box on the top shelf.

* * *

Ooh! Kind of a cliffie…. Any guesses as to what will happen next?

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	3. She's Gone

**A Second Chance: Chapter Two: (Nope, dont own Harry Potter.)**

It was a normal day at work for Ron. He filed paperwork for his boss, and drummed his fingers on his desk, bored, and sent glares at his co-workers, who were watching him strangely, as they always did.

He went to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch, ate his pea-soup as quickly as possible, and then he went back to work.

Ron was sure that he hated his job: Today especially.

Ron had no visitors today, and he was mildly relieved, though mildly upset. Lavender used to visit him at the office every day, after they were first married, but she'd stopped over the past year. He remembered how she looked yesterday, and drooled on some paperwork, before he realized it was already 6 o'clock, and he was at liberty to leave.

Unlike yesterday, he took his time. He buttoned his coat up all the way, then made his way into Diagon Alley, before stopping at Madame Malkin's to buy Lavender a beautiful, silver gown. He intended on having her wear it to the Spring Ball at the Ministry, one he was obligated to attend because of his mild fame. This made him remember the war and the Battle at Hogwarts, and he felt resentful again. Fred, and Tonks and Lupin, Colin Creevey and countless others flashed through his mind, though the thought that stuck with him was the one of that kiss…

He shook his head and growled at himself, and a witch crossing the street with her two children stared at him, before rushing away. Ron waved at her amicably with a smirk on his freckled face, as if to say, _Nice to see you too!_

She only pulled her children along faster.

Ron apparated to his flat.

Ron unlocked the complex door, took the stairs slowly, and then unlocked his door.

He walked into the kitchen, threw off his coat, and kicked his shoes off under the table. He grabbed a firewhiskey from the pantry, and sat down on the couch.

He heard a sound that brought back that anxious feeling in his stomach.

Ron pulled out his wand, and slowly put his drink on the table. He walked slowly and quietly to the bedroom door.

"Lavender?" he asked, more quietly than he intended. He put his hand on the door and listened for a response but there was still no sound.

He jiggled the door knob.

It was locked. That was strange: In the past two years, Ron had never locked the door to their bedroom, and he couldn't recall a time when Lavender had either.

Growing instantly even _more _anxious, he pointed his wand at the lock and almost shouted, "Alohamora!"

He pushed open the door, and the sight that he found changed his life forever.

There were two people on his bed, kissing passionately. In his surprise, Ron only saw a flash of white blonde hair and a red lingerie top.

Immediately after realizing what was happening, Ron seized the figure with the blonde hair and threw him at the wall.

He stared and when he realized he was staring at Draco Malfoy, of all people, he nearly feinted. He stumbled backwards so that he was leaning against the wall, and Ron felt his face grow red.

Lavender was just as shocked as Ron. She stared at him, before looking at Draco, who was glaring angrily at Ron. Then she looked back at her husband and gasped.

"It's not… It's not what it looks like." Lavender said. Ron shook his head and closed his eyes as Draco stood up in the corner of the room.

Ron's eyes opened in a flash. "Not what it looks like!" he screamed. "Not what it _looks like? Bloody HELL!"_

He advanced on Lavender, shaking with anger, and she whimpered. Ron raised his fist, and Lavender closed her eyes, expecting the blow.

But Ron turned and whammed his fist into Draco's nose, which broke with a sickening crunch.

Lavender gasped again, and stood to go to Draco, but Ron pushed her on the bed.

"Explain," he said.

"I- I-"Lavender choked for a minute on her words, and Draco's nose began to bleed. Ron ignored the blood spreading onto the carpet, and stared at his wife.

"When did this start?" Ron asked.

"About, 3 months ago?"

"Tell the truth, Lavender." Draco said. "It's been a year. She's been seeing me for a year."

He stood as Ron nearly feinted again.

Ron spluttered out, "What?"

Lavender stood up too. "A year," she said, closing her eyes. "I've been cheating on you for- for a year." Her voice was nearly a whisper at the end of her sentence, and Ron closed his eyes again.

"Wh-" he began again. "How could you?"

They both opened their eyes at the same time. "I… I don't know."

Malfoy interrupted her.

"You need to keep a better watch on your women, Weasley."

Ron turned to him, and was about to raise his fist again, when he realized it was over. Everything was over.

He turned to leave and didn't look back.

* * *

Ron showed up on the Burrow's porch only minutes later. His knuckles were sore and it hurt for him to knock on the door, but he felt rude walking in unannounced, especially because of his attitude towards his family recently.

Ginny answered the door, and Ron stared at her, before nodding at Harry behind her. Harry seemed to already know exactly what had happened.

Then Ron hugged Ginny without a word to her, and he felt tears rolling quietly down his cheeks. Ginny seemed angry at first, and remained stiff, but as she felt a tear splash onto her shoulder, she relaxed and hugged him back.

Soon, all of the Weasley's stood in the kitchen, staring at Ron.

He let go of Ginny, and angrily wiped the tears from his face, before whispering to them all, "I'm so sorry."

For a moment no one spoke, but then Molly hurled herself at her son, and hugged him energetically.

Soon everyone gathered, and formed a circle around Ron, but instead of feeling better, he instantly felt like crying again. Harry nudged everyone back, and everyone stared at him puzzled.

"Lavender," Harry said. "She cheat-"

Ron interrupted him and finished the sentence in his own words.

"Lavender is an unfaithful bitch."

Everyone stared at him again, and Ron saw George choke back laughter as Percy handed him a galleon, before Arthur spoke.

"With who?"

Anger rose in Ron again as he spoke. "Malfoy."

Ginny gasped as Harry wound an arm around her waist, and then Percy handed George another galleon.

"Bloody Hell," Bill said. He forced a smile at them, before saying, "Why don't we all head into the living room?"

Ron nodded and followed his family into the living room. He sat beside Harry on the couch, who was sitting next to Ginny with his arm around her. Ron remembered their wedding a year ago. He'd been distracted then, with Lavender, and had barely stayed through the reception. He felt instantly guilty again, but then he realized that had probably been right around when Lavender had first cheated on him, and so he felt only self pity after that.

They all sat in silence for a while, until George spoke.

"Should someone go get Hermione from upstairs?"

Ron jolted in his seat. Harry and Ginny looked at him questioningly, before Ginny stood up and said, "I'll go get her."

Ron wrung his sweaty hand in his lap, then wiped his palms on his jeans. It was sure to be the most awkward, painful reunion he'd ever have, and he knew he wasn't ready.

He was about to bolt out of the living room and never come back, when he felt Harry's iron grip on his wrist. The others talked together, staring every once in a while at his direction, but they didn't notice Ron squirm.

"You are _staying here," _Harry demanded.

Ron was about to argue but he faltered under Harry's gaze, and watched the stairs apprehensively.

He heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and felt sweat break out on his brow, but as he raised his hand to wipe it away, Ginny arrived alone.

Everyone stared at her, the room going suddenly quiet, but Ginny turned to Ron.

"She's gone," Ginny said.

Ron breathed out in relief and Harry pinched him in anger.

Ron held back his curse but watched as Ginny sat next to Harry and inconspicuously stuck a folded piece of paper in her husband's hand.

Harry nodded at her, and they're seemed to be an understanding about something between them.

Ron sighed. "I need to get to bed," he said.

He stood and walked slowly up the stairs, as he heard his family begin to talk again.

When he reached his old room, he lay down on his orange and red bed, and gripped at the cloth like a life line. He felt tears prick his eyes again, but he couldn't hold them back.

When he punched the wall behind his bed, his knuckles hurt even worse.

But not as bad as his heart.

**************

Ugh! I hated writing that...

Anyway, Happy New Year, and Please review!!


	4. Not Any Better

**A Second Chance: Chapter Three: **

Ron woke up the following morning with a terrible stomach ache, and a broken heart. At the moment, he couldn't decide which was worse, but he found, to his surprise, as he smelled eggs wafting up from the kitchen, that the former hurt the most.

He raised his arms above him and stretched. He also caught a whiff of what he smelled like, and grimaced. He hopped into the shower across the hall, and groaned when he realized that Ginny's shampoo was the same that Lavender had always used.

So much for the stomach hurting worse.

After brushing his teeth and getting dressed, Ron bounded down the stairs and sat at the kitchen table, sniffing as if he'd never smell again. His mother smiled at him, and Ginny rolled her eyes from across the table.

After stuffing his face, Ron asked Ginny, "Where's Harry?"

She replied, "Still in bed," and Ron, forgetting that Harry and she were actually married, became mildly upset.

Sensing his anger, Ginny frowned at him. "Just because you skipped out of our wedding doesn't mean we weren't actually married." She flashed her ring in front of his face, and Ron self consciously rubbed his ring finger, the one he'd taken Lavenders ring off of last night.

Grimacing, Ron said, "I'm sorry, Gin, I really am."

Ginny just shrugged and twirled her spoon between two fingers. Ron sighed, and then Percy sat down next to him.

"So, Ronald. What are you going to do today?" he asked.

Ron, without pondering it all, blurted out, "I'm quitting my job."

George, who had just walked into the room, and everyone else in the kitchen stared at him.

He explained. "Lavender told me to get that job, and I hate it anyway."

Then to himself, he confirmed, "Yeah. I'm quitting my job."

_Tomorrow, _he thought.

He grinned at them all stupidly and Ginny giggled, her anger obviously abating. Ron poked her in the shoulder and she rubbed at it, before Harry sat down next to her.

"'Morning," he said, yawning.

Ron watched as Ginny kissed Harry's cheek, and both of their eyes lit up, before they turned and stared at each other intently. Ron watched as their fingers laced on the top of the table, and he pushed his chair back, scraping it against the floor.

He fled from the room, and found himself in the attic soon after, rocking himself back and forth on his heels.

He knew he wasn't feeling resentment towards Harry being married to his little sister, but he felt immensely jealous at what they had, and what he would never have again. He remembered how in love he and Lavender had been their first year of marriage but stopped in his pacing for a moment.

What if Lavender had never really loved him? What if their marriage had always been a scam? What if she'd been cheating the whole-

He didn't allow himself to finish that thought.

After watching his parents love each other through everything, for over 24 years, and knowing they'd loved each other even before all that time, Ron thought he knew what real love was. It was loving someone so much that no matter what happened, you wanted to stick by them, and be their hero. You loved them so much that nothing could change your love.

He thought cheating on a loved one was the worst possible thing you could to that person, or yourself, your soul. And so he couldn't comprehend why Lavender had done such a thing to him, for such a long time: When had he mistaken her true character, and been blinded by his love for her?

Ron hadn't a clue.

He sat down against the wall, his hands balled into fists, and tears welling up in his eyes again. He stood up angrily again, and was about to punch another wall, when he thought to himself, _Be a man, Ronald Weasley. Be the man you once were. _

He turned to his left and saw a mirror, half covered in a white sheet, dust all over his reflection.

He walked over to it, swept the dust away, pulled the sheet down, and then grimaced at his reflection.

Then, feeling completely idiotic, he whispered to himself, "Be the man you are."

He stayed there, staring at the mirror, trying to find himself, until he heard someone calling for him. With one last glance at himself, he left, his hands clenching and unclenching as he walked down the stairs.

He went into the kitchen and tapped his mother on the shoulder.

"You wanted to see me?" he asked her.

She shook her head, laughing. "Just wondering where you were, dear."

She smiled genuinely at him, but to Ron is seemed a pitying smile.

Frowning again, he sat down at the kitchen table quietly, and stared out the window above the sink. He sat like that for a few minutes, in complete silence, before deciding a walk would be good for him.

He headed out the front door, and began walking in the direction of the orchard where he had often played Quidittch before. A thick layer of dry, compacted snow covered the ground, and Ron shivered, though the sun happened to be out. He looked too far up in the sky and was momentarily blinded. Moving his eyes downward, he saw thick, white clouds on the horizon, and stared at them as he walked.

He tried not to think about anything, and found it easier than he expected.

He was almost to the orchard when the sight of a rotten, snow covered apple core reminded him of his rotten marriage and he found he couldn't hold back memories any longer.

He remembered their honeymoon, the day they bought the apartment, when he applied for his soon to be ex- job, and countless other times with Lavender: But then his brained skipped even farther backward.

As he closed his eyes, he saw behind his lids the image of Dumbledore's Funeral, 8 years previous. Hermione had her head on his shoulder, and tears were streaming down her red, round face. He remembered what her hair had felt like beneath his hand as he had stroked her head, and his fingers went limp, in the present. He shivered involuntarily, before he opened his eyes, and shook his head, walking up the steep hill to the top of the orchard.

He sat down on a bench under a goal post, and put his face in his hands, eyes still open. He studied the lines on his palm in the dark, and breathed more quickly than usual.

Sitting up quickly, Ron realized that flying would do him more for his mental health than walking.

He pulled out his wand, muttered, "Accio broomstick," while pointing in the direction of the house, and then wached as an old clean sweep flew towards him.

Grasping it near the tail, he pulled the broom under him and rose quickly off the snowy ground, cold wind whistling in his ear. Soon, he was near the top of the goalpost, and he stayed still for a moment, staring off in the direction of The Lovegood's strange house.

Shaking his head to keep him from remembering anything in _particular, _Ron rose higher into the air and began to circle around the orchard.

He realized that he hadn't been flying in at least a year, and silently cursed Lavender for doing that to him as well. Ron groaned and told himself to _stop thinking_, before he flew back towards the burrow.

He circled the room that had once been both Fred's and George's near the top of the house, before slowly declining. He ended up staring into the room he knew Hermione had been staying in the night he arrived, and looked around the interior.

There were a couple of books left on the floor by the bed, and a few wrinkled shirts lying on the floor. The bed wasn't made and he saw a wilting flower in a vase by the bathroom.

Hermione had obviously left in haste that night. After realizing this, Ron felt something swell in his stomach that he didn't have a name for.

He just knew he felt like _shit._

Shaking his head in anger at his _stupid self _again, Ron flew down to the ground, and hopped swiftly off the broom.

As he walked back inside, he realized he didn't feel any better.


	5. Can't Face Him

**A Second Chance: Chapter Four: **

Ron woke up early the next morning, before he took a quick shower, and dressed in a nice shirt and jeans.

He bounded out the door with an apple in his hand, feeling a little bit happier than he had the past two days.

But only a little bit.

Outside of the Burrow's main gate, Ron turned on the spot and arrived in the back of the Leaky Cauldron. After tapping the correct bricks on the wall in front of him, he watched as Diagon Alley appeared, excitement bubbling in the pit of his stomach.

He'd wanted to quit this job the day after he'd gotten it: He was never a guy who liked to sit in an office all day, and that was basically all his job entailed.

He made his way into the front office, and asked the receptionist there if he could see his boss. She winked at him, as she had often done while he'd worked there, and Ron rolled his eyes after she went to ask his boss.

She came out and gestured him into the office, so Ron headed inside.

He told his boss quickly that he was quitting, and the man hardly gave him a second glance.

"All right, get out of here," he said to Ron, and Ron left quickly, feeling free.

He headed to the ice cream shop across from Gringotts, and ordered a coffee, before sitting down outside.

It was a little cloudy that day, and Ron watched some fog climb higher into the sky in front of him. Realizing that quitting his job had only made him momentarily happy, Ron sighed. The weather fit his mood.

After finishing his coffee, he headed back to the Burrow, and spent the rest of the day lying on his bed, just thinking.

****************

A week later, Ron hadn't done much else but lay in his room. He'd come out to eat, use the bathroom, and fly a little around the orchard but that was about all.

The only eventful thing that had happened to Ron over the week had happened two days earlier. His mother had asked him to go to the laundry room and grab some extra napkins for lunch, when he'd accidentally knocked over the rubbish bin. Bending over, he set the bin upright and scooped some stray papers into the bin, when one of the papers caught his eye.

He picked it up and stood up straight, leaning into the light to look at it properly. He realized it was the paper Ginny had slipped into Harry's hand after Hermione left. His heart beating irregularly, Ron slowly unfolded the note.

It had, written in a tidy, cursive scrawl, the words:

Ginny,

I can't face him. Not now, not anytime soon. I'll owl later, thanks for everything,

Hermione

After reading it, Ron had sprinted downstairs and given his mom the napkins, before taking the steps two at a time up to his room, forgetting completely about food.

The note was under his pillow now, and Ron had taken it out often during the past two days to read it, over and over. He had it memorized.

But on Saturday morning, Ron woke up feeling more energetic, and tired of lying around.

He ate breakfast with all of his family, chatting somewhat animatedly, before helping Ginny with the dishes. He tried to tease Harry a little, and found that everything seemed to be all right between them, and then George played a short prank on him.

He left the house laughing hollowly, and apparated to Diagon Alley without pondering what he'd actually do there. He ended up standing in the middle of the street, shoppers hustling around him, before he went into the Owl Emporium and bought some treats for Pig, who had been delivering letters for Ginny for the past two years. When he came out, he was at a loss for things to do again, so he walked up and down the alley, listening to the sounds of care free people.

Wandering aimlessly grew boring after a little while, so Ron stopped outside Flourish and Blotts and stared in the shop window, looking at all the books. He admitted to himself that he'd been avoiding it because of _her, _and the fear that he'd run into _her. _But Ron knew he had to face his fears, so with a deep breath, he strode inside.

He hadn't been into Flourish and Blotts in at least 3 years, and he was overwhelmed by all the titles on so many shelves. A tall woman wearing deep purple robes asked him if he needed any help finding a book, but he told her no, he was just browsing.

She walked away smiling at the other customers, as Ron turned to his left and walked up a flight of stairs. He found himself staring at even more shelves, but Ron, because he wasn't a natural born book-lover, was still at a loss.

He was about to leave when he saw a flash of something brown and curly disappear behind a shelf at the other side of the balcony.

Ron felt his pulse quicken and rocked back and forth where he stood, wondering what he should do.

_Face your fears, _he told himself again, before adding, _It might not even be her. _But Ron was almost positive it was, knowing he'd probably recognize her anywhere.

He walked slowly down an aisle of leather bound books, before he peeked around the corner of the nearest shelf and saw her again.

Jumping back almost silently, he made sure she couldn't see him, and then peeked again.

She stood with her weight distributed evenly on both of her legs, a thick book held close to her face. Ron studied her fingers: They were longer now, as were her nails as well, and she had a thin, silver ring on her pinkie. Looking up, he found her hair had tamed immensely: It framed her face very prettily, and seemed to make her brown eyes sparkle. Her ears were pierced, something Ron wasn't sure if she'd had while at school with him, and she wore small silver hoops. Her lashes looked darker too, and her eyebrows thinner. Her wand was in her pocket and looking at her clothes for the first time, he saw she wore furry snow boots, dark jeans, and a grey coat.

He stopped breathing for a moment, but then he realized that was the worst thing he could do then.

He stepped back farther from the shelf, thankful that Hermione seemed to be enjoying her book, and took more deep breaths. He teetered on his large feet for a moment, unsure of what to do, but hatched a plan quickly.

He stuck his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, and started whistling to himself. He strode, confidently enough for the situation, into her aisle, and whistled less urgently when he saw that she didn't react. He pretended to be looking for a certain novel on the shelf, but he paid no attention to the titles. Instead, he peered at her out of the corner of his eye, still whistling.

Closer up now, he studied her nose, red from the cold, intently and before he could stop himself, his eyes moved down to her lips.

But Ron couldn't think about her lips then, remembering he was still recovering from being cheated on, and resentment rose up in him again.

He watched Hermione's eyes scan over her novel, and then he saw her wrinkle her nose at something written on the page.

She closed the book, looking scandalized, and was putting it back on the shelf, about to reach for another one, when she saw him staring at her.

At first she didn't recognize him, and smiled at him in a friendly manner, but then he heard her gasp as she turned back around.

Ron, realizing he was caught, turned his body completely in her direction.

They stared at each other for a moment, both growing red, Hermione in anger and Ron in embarrassment, until Hermione spoke.

"R- Ron?" she asked, though Ron thought she already knew the answer.

He nodded, and smiled cheekily at her. She opened her mouth again and again like a fish out of water, trying to think of something to say to him. Eventually she recovered from her shock and glared at him. Then she turned, and left him behind the bookshelf.

He watched as she sprinted down the stairs and back onto the main street.

***************

Please Review… : )

Let me know what you think.


	6. Just Doesn't Cut It

**A Second Chance: Chapter 5: **

_**Excerpt from last chapter: **_

_**They stared at each other for a moment, both growing red, Hermione in anger and Ron in embarrassment, until Hermione spoke.**_

"_**R- Ron?" she asked, though Ron thought she already knew the answer. **_

_**He nodded, and smiled cheekily at her. She opened her mouth again and again like a fish out of water, trying to think of something to say to him. Eventually she recovered from her shock and glared at him. Then she turned, and left him behind the bookshelf. **_

_**He watched as she sprinted down the stairs and back onto the main street. **_

_**********************_

But Ron followed her.

He bounded down the steps from the balcony, and ignored the glares he received from the other customers as he sprinted out the doorway.

He scanned the crowd for Hermione, looking for curly hair, and saw her heading up the street, walking much faster than most of the others. He ran through the crowd, feeling the muscles in his legs flex, something he didn't remember feeling any time recently.

Soon he was right behind her, and he grabbed her wrist. They were near the top of the street now, above The Leaky Cauldron, and there were fewer people milling about.

Hermione tried to pull away from him, but he hung on even tighter, and forced her to turn around. She stared at his hair and down to his eyes, but went no further.

"What do you want, Ronald?" she spat at him, actually spraying him with saliva. He didn't wipe it away, but instead looked her straight in the eyes, without flinching.

"I want to talk to you_," _he said. Hermione stared at him, her brown eyes widening and her expression seeming to soften a bit, but then she caught herself and glared at him again.

"Why should I let you?" she asked him, her free arm dangling lamely at her side, as if without conviction. "You… We have _nothing _to say to each other."

Ron flinched and let go of her wrist. She stared down at where his hand had been for a moment, but then she turned and walked further up the street.

Ron called out to her, "I'm sorry."He couldn't recall right then exactly what he was apologizing for, but he decided it was the correct thing to say.

Hermione turned around and replied, "That just doesn't cut it." Then she apparated away and Ron stood in the street, feeling even more worthless: He couldn't keep his wife or his friends to stay with him. He was pathetic.

As the crowd reached Ron, and they jostled him around, he knew he just wanted to lie down, and maybe drink his sorrows away. So, he went back to the burrow, grabbed a firewhiskey from the pantry, and went straight up to his room, drinking until he couldn't remember why he needed to.

***************

Ron woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and tired legs: It seemed to prove to him even further that Lavender had been bad for his health, for she'd kept him from exercising and now he was out of shape.

He sat up on his bed and heard the bottle of firewhiskey roll off of the sheets: It shattered on the floor, and Ron jumped over the shards as he stood up.

He wobbled on his feet, light escaping him for a moment, before he heard a knock on the door. He stumbled to it, and leaned against the door frame, blinking.

It was Ginny and she had a small purple vile in her hand: Ron was too disoriented to read the label.

"What is it?" he asked her.

"I thought you might need this," she said.

Ron yawned, his head throbbing, and said again, "What is it?"

"It's a hangover potion," she said, and then she stepped inside the door, conjuring a glass of water out of thin air. She poured the potion into the glass and as the water turned a dark grey color, Ron sat down on his bed again.

Ginny handed him the drink, and he took it gladly, sighing when his head immediately ceased throbbing as the sweet tasting liquid went down his throat.

Feeling much more gracious, Ron muttered, "Thanks," and handed her the glass.

"Just don't tell mum." She giggled a little, pointing at the hair sticking up at the crown of his head. But she sobered soon, and sat down on the chair by his window. "Do you want to tell me why you were drinking all night?"

Ron sighed, thinking, _Why not?, _before he closed his eyes and spoke. "I'm pathetic," he said. "I lost my wife to Draco _Bloody _Malfoy, the stinking ferret, I'm all out of shape and I can't even gether to talk to me."

"Who is _her?" _Ginny asked him. Ron opened his eyes when he himself realized he hadn't been talking about Lavender, and then he shook his head in stupidity.

He reached behind him and grabbed the note from under his pillow, before tossing it to Ginny. She didn't even read it, but sighed in an appreciative, "Ah…"

"I saw _her _at Flourish and Blotts and tried to be friendly, but she wouldn't let me. I said I was sorry and she said something like, _That doesn't cut it _or something and then she left. My own best friend won't even talk to me."

Ginny shook her head. "It's way too soon for you to be thinking of another girl like that after…what happened, Ron."

"But I wasn't thinking like that," he said, wondering why in the world he was blushing. "I just want to be her friend again, like old times."

"Right," Ginny said, and Ron didn't see as she rolled her eyes. "Just give her time to warm up to you again, Ron. She was hurt… She's been hurting."

"But why is that my fault?" Ron asked her, not joking around.

Ginny raised an eyebrow at him. "You don't remember what you two fought about?"

When he shook his head no, she added, "That's the most pathetic thing about you."

"Can't you tell me what I did?" he said, but Ginny shook her head. "You have to remember," she said, sounding too much like his mother for his tastes. "Then she'll see that you really are sorry."

Ginny stood up, and was almost out his door when she turned around and said, "I'm pregnant."

Ron didn't get the chance to congratulate her. She was out the door in a flash, and Ron had to remind himself again that she was married: He wasn't really a stickler for sex after marriage like some people, but he did mind it for his sister.

He really was a hypocrite.


	7. Desicion

**A/N: Sorry for the really late update. I've been suffering from severe writers block and a case of "Not Having Time." : )**

**Hope you like the chapter!!**

*****************  
**A Second Chance: Chapter 6:

A month later, Ron had almost given up. He'd been back to Flourish and Blotts almost every day for two whole weeks, but Hermione never came. Now, he was sitting on the back porch at the burrow, his chin resting on his open palm, and his mind blank with boredom.

He tried to run his free hand through his hair, but it was so knotted he pulled out a large chunk of the red mess. He sighed, remembering how long it'd been since he showered, and was about to get up and go inside when Ginny came bounding onto the porch as Harry walked slowly across the lawn.

"Hey, Ron," she said. Then she plopped down into the chair next to his. "Harry and I wanted to talk to you."

Harry strode onto the porch and grinned cheekily at him. Ron just grunted. He didn't feel like talking.

"Snap out of it, Ron," said Ginny. "I know you're depressed, but you've got to put your life back on track. Start living again. And-"

Harry cut her off and said, "And the first thing you need to do is divorce Lavender."

This caught Ron off guard. He blinked and sat up, before looking between the two of them. Ginny was grimacing, as if she wished Harry hadn't been so blunt, but Harry just looked at Ron with wide eyes, as if saying, _You know I'm right. _

Ron gazed off towards the garden horizon between them, and then he stood up. "I'm going to shower," he said. "And then I'm going back to my apartment and picking up my things."

"Are you going to d-"

"Not yet, Harry. I have to think about this."

Harry almost said something, but Ginny stood and up put her hand over his mouth. "It worked," she whispered.

Ron jumped into the shower, and then back out in less than 5 minutes. He stood in front of the mirror with a towel wrapped around his waist, and ran his hand over his cheek. He realized then that he hadn't shaved in a whole month, and he felt the red stubble that covered his chin.

Ron decided to leave it.

He ran a comb through his hair and then he went to his room and pulled on his clothes. He bounded down the steps minutes later, and grabbed his wand off the kitchen counter.

He walked outside, ran straight across the lawn, and apparated at the other side of the fence. Then he found himself standing outside of his door.

Suddenly, he was nervous.

Ron straightened his shirt, and ran a hand through his hair, as if it would change something. He raised his fist to knock on the door, but hesitated, his knuckles centimeters from the door. He decided to just waltz in, as if he owned the place, which he did and so he raised his wand and muttered "Alohamora."

When he pulled open the door, he expected something to be drastically different. But it looked the same. The same green pillows lay on Lavender's favorite brown couch (which Ron had always despised), the same frilly curtains were on the windows, and the dining room table had the same purple plates lining it.

Ron realized then with a shock that he had always hated this room, and everything in it, but he'd never said anything. He walked over to the fridge, and pulled it open, gazing at the same low-cal food that Lavender had always forced on him, and grimaced. His hand went to his stomach, which had grown slightly since he'd been lying around his mother's house eating her fattening food for more than a month. He decided he'd rather get fat than eat Lavender's food ever again.

He turned back around to the room, and rocked back and forth on his heels, wondering if he should check the bedroom. He realized he had to face it and so he strode purposefully over to the bedroom door. He pushed it open quickly, and closed his eyes, listening and afraid of what he'd see, but he heard nothing.

He opened his left eye first, and realized there was no one in the room, not even Lavender. He breathed a sigh of relief and opened his other eye, before stepping farther into the room.

The room was just as messy as it had been last time he'd seen it, but this didn't surprise him. He looked at it for a moment but didn't have the patience to do it much longer.

He strode across to the bathroom, stepping over a ripped pillow on the way, and then he kicked the bathroom door open. He looked at the sink, and saw a toothbrush there that didn't belong to him or Lavender, and a thin comb with short strands of blonde hair between the teeth.

He picked it up and ran the teeth over the pad of his thumb, quickly, before he picked it up and threw it at the mirror. It bounced away and landed with a quiet clatter on the tile floor.

Ron felt his breath catch in his throat, and he sat down with his back against the tub. He felt tears prick his eyes, and wiped at the angrily, though there was no one to see them. No one.

He took a few deep breaths and squinted until his eyes hurt, before he stood up and placed his hands on the counter.

He opened the drawer and found a razor that wasn't his either, but clearly wasn't Lavender's either. As he searched farther through the drawer, he wondered if these things had been here while he himself had still been here, and it made him angry again.

Without considering it at all, Ron reached across the counter quickly, and grabbed the perfume he gave Lavender on their 1st anniversary, before throwing it at the floor with as much power as he could muster. The glass bottle exploded, and shards flew across the floor as a smell quite like Vanilla spread throughout the room.

"That felt good," Ron muttered, and then he grabbed another bottle off the counter. This one must've been the one Ginny had given Lavender as a wedding gift, the one Lavender had never worn. He threw it down and closed his eyes as he heard the glass break.

He grinned at himself in the mirror, before he threw done another bottle, and then another.

Soon, the room was pungent with a mixed aroma of smells, and Ron took deep breaths, savoring the way it felt in his nose.

He wasn't sure why, but he felt as if something had been lifted off his shoulders and chest, and as he threw one last bottle at the floor, he knew he'd made his decision.

He'd never been happy living with Lavender: He'd always hated the apartment, and the food, but most of all, he knew he hated what his life had become: Dull.

He looked himself in the eye in the mirror, and practiced, saying, "Lavender, I'm asking for a divorce."

He shook his head. That didn't sound right.

"Lavender… I'm divorcing you." Then he grinned at himself.

He walked out of the bathroom, the bedroom, and strode straight through the kitchen, without picking anything up and without looking back.

As he closed the door, he grinned when he imagined the look on Lavender's face when she walked into her bathroom, and found all of her perfume destroyed.

He decided it was time to celebrate: He was going to the Leaky Cauldron.

**Did you like it?? Please Review!!**


	8. Relief

Chapter Seven:

Ron apparated straight to the Leaky Cauldron. He pulled open the door, and greeted Tom the Bartender warmly, while waving at someone he recognized from Hogwarts across the room. They didn't seem to recognize him.

He sat down at the bar, and ordered a Firewhiskey, still smiling. After downing his first drink, he felt like he was being watched. He turned around in his seat, and looked around at the room. There was a couple in the corner, and their lips were locked, hands running all over each other. Ron grimaced, remembering his antics in sixth year, before moving on. He saw the woman he'd waved to across the room still looking at him in confusion, and assumed it was her.

But as he was turning around to the bar, he saw a mess of curly brown hair farther down the row. The girl there had her face nearly covered with her arms and a butterbeer on the counter in front of her, a book on her lap. He stared at her for a second and when she raised her head and looked at him over her arm, blue eyes meet brown.

Ron felt stupid for not immediately recognizing her, and he slammed his drink down on the counter. He hopped straight out of his bar stool, and strode over to her. She was trying to gather her bag off the back of her chair when he reached her, and Ron, feeling immensely freed and powerful, seized her arm and forced her back into the chair.

"Hermione Granger," he said. She stared up at him with angry eyes, but he watched in amusement, and confusion, as they seemed to glaze over as he looked at her. She was breathing a little irregularly and he dropped her arm, afraid that he was hurting her. To his surprise, she didn't even try to leave.

"I am _sorry _for what happened between us. I know that's probably not enough right now, and that we'll have to discuss it later, but I miss having you as a friend. My whole life has begun again over the course of just a month, and I want you by my side, like it was at Hogwarts and during the war. I want my _best friend _back, and I want to forgive and forget. I want a second chance at my adult life… and with you." He paused, feeling as if he'd said too much, but wanting to continue. But he just took a step back and decided to let Hermione answer.

She stood up, and Ron was worried that she was going to storm away and ruin his perfect day, but instead, he felt her thin arms wrap around his waist as she stood on her tip toes and hugged him, resting her chin on his shoulder. He was stiff and awkward at first, but he relaxed quickly.

He'd convinced her to forgive him, and Ron felt genuinely happy for the first time in a long time.

"I missed you," she whispered, and Ron hugged her tighter.

When she pulled away he grabbed her hand and asked her to visit everyone at the burrow. She smiled, and nodded, but as Ron pulled her out of the pub, he failed to notice the small pool of water in her eyes.

He turned on the spot outside of the pub, thinking of home, and wondering what everyone would say. He'd won her back, and he felt like it was just another sign pointing in the direction of his new life… cheesy as it sounding in his mind.

He landed on his toes outside of the gate, and looked to Hermione beside him. She had a hand on her face, but pulled it away quickly when she saw him looking at him. Ron disregarded this.

"Ready?" he asked her.

She laughed a little, to which Ron felt something bubble in his stomach, and said, "Ron, I've been around here a _little _more often than you have, at least, before a month ago."

The strange bubbling in his stomach turned to guilt when she said that, but he just looked at her with casual interest. She seemed to realize then that he was still holding her hand, and she dropped it quickly.

Then she turned away from him and walked slowly across the lawn. Ron watched her for a moment, before following, and he was surprised when she walked inside without knocking. That seemed very _un-Hermione. _

He heard Ginny say, "Hermione!" as he walked onto the porch, and when he walked inside he found them hugging.

Harry hugged Hermione after Ginny, and then they stood side by side, grinning as they told Hermione about the baby.

Hermione squealed and hugged Ginny again, though more carefully than before. At that moment, his mother walked into the room with Bill and George in her wake. They all hugged Hermione and Ron felt left out as George put a hand on Hermione's head and messed up her hair. She laughed and smiled at the room, though Ron could tell she purposely hadn't looked at him.

"Shall we go into the kitchen?" Molly asked, gesturing at the door. "Dinner will be ready fairly soon." They all followed her into the kitchen, and Ron found himself entering behind Hermione. She stumbled a little on an upturned corner of a rug, and Ron instinctively stuck out his arm for her to grab.

He watched as her face grew a little red and she muttered a quiet "_Thank You", _before she hurried all the way into the room. Ron stood and placed his elbows on the counter, and Harry stood on his left, while Ginny made a point of leavingan empty spot on his right. Hermione however, had already seated herself on the counter with her feet dangling over the edge. Normally, he knew from experience, his mother would have shooed anyone off of the counter, but today he watched as she laughed at something Hermione said, and asked her to taste whatever she was making. It seemed as those it was _Hermione's spot _in the room.

A short amount of time passed in quiet chit chat among everyone at the burrow, but a silence seemed to fall quickly over the room when Harry spoke to Ron the first time that night.

"So, did you make a decision?"

Ron nodded, and looked around the room. All eyes were on him, including Hermione's and he watched as she tilted her head a little to the side, as if in puzzlement.

"Well?" Harry said. Ron gulped, though he wasn't sure why he was nervous. He looked out of the window behind his mothers head as he said, "I'm going to divorce her."

He heard George whoop, and Ginny giggle happily, but Harry just nodded, as did his mother. Hermione however, looked him right in the eyes, and said, "Di-Divorce? You're going to divorce L-lavender?"

Ron nodded, but saw Hermione's jaw drop and then he was just as confused. "No one told you?" he asked her.

Hermione shook her head and looked in Ginny's direction. Ginny was looking very intensely at her husband's forehead and Ron almost laughed as Harry rubbed his head as if expecting to find something unusual there.

Ron sighed, before turning back around to Hermione and explaining. "She cheated on me," he said, but the word _cheat _caught a little in his throat. "With the _Ferret." _

He watched as the brown in Hermione's eyes lightened a little, and her pupils darkened. There was a striking difference between the center of her eyes and the outer edge, and Ron forgot to breathe for moment.

But he looked away from her and just nodded. His mother caught his eye and smiled at him, and there was something strange in her eyes, something he hadn't seen look so strong in her since the end of the war.

It was relief.

* * *

Soon after, they were all crowded around the table. There was an empty spot for Arthur at the head of the table, as he was still at work.

Ron had not been surprised to find that he was seated right next to Hermione, with Harry barricading his way out on his other side. Harry kept scooting his chair farther in Ron's direction, to which Ron came even closer to Hermione. He was trying in vain to keep from looking at her, but as he'd watched his family congregate with her in their midst, he'd realized a lot had changed over the past few years. Hermione really did seem to belong there, and she chatted animatedly with his family, though she avoided his gaze.

He hoped they could get over all that had happened, and be comfortable as they once had been, back when they'd been the best of friends. He recognized many of the old characteristics of her, like her ability to sit very straight in her chair, and the way she held onto her fork tightly. But he also noticed that she seemed to smile differently, more reserved. And there was something sad, and forbidding, deep in her eyes.

Just then, his father walked into the door and saw the crowd at the table. "Evening all!" he said, before sitting quickly down in his chair. After looking at the table for a minute, however, he seemed to realize they had a guest and stood up. "Hermione," he said matter-of-factly, almost as if she had always been there, and he kissed her on the check.

"Hi, Mr. Weasley," she said, grinning at him.

This made Ron feel even more left out.

Arthur threw his hat onto a hook on the wall, and laid his wand down at the table beneath it before sitting back down at the table. Molly grabbed him a platter and began to heap food onto his plate, and he began to eat ravenously.

Hermione muttered something like, "Weasley Men," very low under her breath, and as Ron looked around the table at all his brothers, he realized they did all eat as if for their last time, except for Percy of course. He ate very properly.

Ron couldn't help but chuckle at this comment, and then he ate a little more slowly. He was watching Harry kiss Ginny on the forehead and pat her stomach softly, when he heard someone clear their throat at the opposite end of the table.

"It's good to have the family back together," said Molly, raising her glass in a toast. Ron had a feeling she wasn't just referring to him.

The rest of dinner passed uneventfully, except for a moment when both Ron and Hermione reached for the same platter, and their hands brushed. Her hand was soft and warm and his went clammy for a moment. He muttered an apology and handed the platter to her. When she was done she gave it to him, and he distractedly heaped more green beans and pasta onto his plate.

After dinner, they all retired to the living room again, and Ron breathed a sigh of relief when Hermione sat far away from him. They'd been apart too long for them to pick up their friendship so easily, though he wished it could be that way.

Hermione and Ginny were talking about baby names as Harry listened intently, and his parents were talking quietly. George and Charlie were both leaning over a game of Wizard Chess, and Ron chuckled a little when he saw the look on Percy's face as a black piece was destroyed.

He leaned back into his chair, and watched the sun set through the window. He didn't realize he was exhausted until he felt his lids begin to droop and the world fell slowly away.

* * *

Ron awoke to some quiet mumbling in the room. He kept his eyes closed, his body still tired, and he felt that this was a conversation he might, secretly, want to hear.

He heard Ginny say, "So, you just gave in?"

He heard Hermione reply, "I couldn't stay away any longer Ginny. The past month has been lonely, trying to avoid him. I mean, he kept coming back to Flourish and Blotts to find me, and if I'd known about Lavender I would have… well, I'd have for- accepted him much more easily."

Ron wondered what she'd meant to say instead of _accepted, _but forgot when he heard Ginny speak again.

"Hermione…" she said, and Ron could feel the level of tension rise a bit around him, "Don't get… attached so easily. You know… You're both… well… Recovering I would say, though you've been… Never mind. Just remember that you've both been through a lot."

Ron heard Hermione snort. "_Both of us_," she muttered, and then he heard Hermione get up. He opened his eyes just a fraction of a centimeter, and saw Hermione looking out of the dark window, while Ginny watched her apprehensively from the couch. Harry sat next to Ginny, though Ron hadn't heard him say anything at all. The moment passed in silence, before Hermione turned back around.

"I should be going," she said, and Ron closed his eyes and tried to breathe peacefully, because he knew Hermione missed nothing. He heard Ginny and Harry get up, and they all walked out onto the porch. After Ron heard the door slam loudly, he sat up and wondered what to make of the conversation. He decided he was too tired to think about anything.

He stood up and teetered on the front of his toes. Regaining his balance quickly, he wondered what to do, but he felt that he had to say goodbye to Hermione, just to make sure she knew he'd enjoyed having her back: Which he had, though they hadn't said much to each other.

He decided the best way was to pretend the door had woken up, and follow them out onto the porch. He opened the door and saw Ginny whispering something to Hermione, to which Hermione giggled and Harry frowned. The atmosphere was definitely more peaceful then.

They all turned around as the door swung shut behind Ron, and he said as confidently as he could, "You all leaving already?" He spoke to all of them, but he really only cared about Hermione.

Harry and Ginny shook their heads, but Hermione nodded.

"I have work tomorrow," she said, smiling just a little. She seemed to want to say something else, but she didn't and so Ron said, "All right. It's really good to see you… Hermione."

She nodded, and grinned a little more genuinely. Bu then the smile disappeared, and she said, "I'm really sorry for your… loss."

It took Ron a moment to realize she was talking about Lavender, but when he did, he shook his head. "Don't be," he said. "I should've never-"

"Well, I have to go," Hermione said, interrupting him, as if she couldn't bear to hear anymore. "I'll see you guys soon."

She half ran, half walked to the gate before dissaparating and Ron sighed. Harry and Ginny looked at each other, before leaving him alone on the porch. And so Ron sat back down in his chair, where he'd been less than 24 hours before, and watched a cloud scuttle away from the moon.

******************

**A/N: **

**Wow!!! That's the longest chapter I've ever written, and I actually really liked it!!**

**Review and tell me what you think!!!!!!**


	9. New Lifestyle

**A/N: WOW!! An even longer chapter! I am surprised at myself for not getting bored with this… Though I'm a bit worried you are. This story's not getting very many reviews, favorites, subscriptions, or hits, so I greatly appreciate those of you who have helped me out. I PROMISE this story will get a lot more interesting eventually. **

* * *

Ron woke up the next morning in his bed, though he didn't remember ever taking himself there: He supposed his mother had levitated him up the stairs.

He folded his arms behind his head, and breathed deeply. Somehow, today, the decision to divorce Lavender felt more life changing than it had yesterday. It hit him as he lay there, smelling eggs from the kitchen and the scent of moving life out the window, that he might never be the same. Divorce changed people. But he also didn't feel nervous at all: as if all his overwhelming stress and anger had disappeared, as a sign to him that he was making the right choice.

And so with that in mind, he dressed and went down stairs.

His mother put a large, hot plate of eggs in front of him on the table, and he smiled at her as he downed his orange juice in one gulp. When he finished eating, he asked his mother where Harry was: Since Harry worked for the ministry, he would be the person to ask about divorce papers and such. Ron had decided to move on right away.

"He and Ginny went home very late last night, but I imagine he's at work right now." She didn't ask him why he needed to know, but hummed to herself while she flipped some eggs on her pan.

Ron nodded to himself, and drummed his fingers on the table for a moment, before standing up and crossing to his mother. He kissed her on the cheek, and then he headed out the door.

He apparated straight to the Ministry, and then he walked, very deliberately, across the crowded Atrium. Candles hung, without support, above him, even in the early morning and the green fire from many hearths along the wallslit up the room even further A few people recognized him as Ron Weasley from _The War, _and tried to attract his attention, but he ignored them: The more he thought about it, and the longer he waited, the quicker he wanted to start the whole divorce process right away. Just walking across the Atrium felt like a waste of his precious time, and he wished he could apparate straight into Harry's office, but he knew there were enchantments to stop him from doing so.

He squeezed himself into an elevator, beside a few disgruntled looking witches, and a Wizard with a very long, purple nose carrying a golden egg, right before the door closed. The calming voice of a woman, one Ron had grown quite accustomed to over the years, announced that they were on the fifth floor soon after, and Ron stepped out of the elevator. He went straight down the hall, and was about to knock on Harry's door when it opened: and out stepped Draco Malfoy, the very last person Ron wanted, or expected, to see.

Malfoy seemed to asses Ron for a moment, before he snorted and tried to walk away. Ron was not going to let him escape so easily though, and he felt like he had to say something to prove himself. With a flick of his wand, silver ropes tied Malfoy's legs together, and he fell, flat on his face, with a loud clatter. Ron turned him over, and looking him straight in the eye, he said, "Don't think you've done anything to get back at me, _Malfoy. _You've only made me realize what I've been putting myself through these past two years, and you can have her." He paused for a moment, wondering if he should actually thank the Ferret, but he decided it was pointless.

He flicked his wrist again, and the ropes around Malfoy disappeared. He stepped over the threshold, and closed the door to Harry's office quickly.

Harry looked up from his desk. "Hey," he said. Ron watched, amused, as Harry shook his head and chuckled a little: Clearly he was laughing at Ron's antics with Malfoy.

"What are you doing working with the slime-ball?" Ron asked him.

"Well," said Harry, "Since I'm the Head of the Auror Department and the _slime-ball, _as you put it, is the head of one of my most successful Auror teams, we sort of have to work together." He gave Ron a look that Ron couldn't help but laugh at.

"So," Harry said, looking back down at a pamphlet on his desk, "What's up?"

"I was wondering if you knew where I should start with the divorce. You know, who I should talk to fist and where I can get the papers."

Harry looked up from his desk. "Wow. You're really sure about this aren't you?"

Ron didn't have to think about it. He nodded and said, "So sure."

Harry smiled at him: "I'm proud of you," he said. "But I honestly don't know anything about divorce. And I'm not sure what department you could look in…" He paused for a moment, and looked out the window, before he turned back to Ron with a suspicious looking grin on his face. "You could, I suppose, talk to Hermione about it… She's working on getting House Elves the right to marry… and the two sort of come hand in hand."

Ron couldn't help but hear the double meaning in Harry's words: It was as if Harry was implying that not only marriage and divorce came hand in hand, but that _his _divorce and _Hermione _did. But he shrugged it off, and thanked Harry for his advice, before heading out of his office.

He stepped back into the elevator, and went down to the atrium, where he asked the receptionist where he could find Hermione Granger. She directed him to the seventh floor, and Ron went straight back into the elevator again.

He arrived on the seventh floor, and found Hermione's door at the far end of the hall. He paused for a moment, the first time that day, before he knocked on the door.

"Come in!"

Ron opened the door, and walked slowly inside. The room was brightly lit but the windows were closed; Hermione had her feet up on her desk in front of her, a long sheet of parchment, trailing onto the floor, in her hand. She didn't look up from her parchment until Ron cleared his throat and then she gasped when she saw him.

"Oh… Ronald! Erm… What are you doing here?" She tucked a thick strand of her hair behind her ear, and Ron saw, out of the corner of his eye, that she pushed a picture frame face-down onto her desk, very discreetly.

He looked back up at her deep brown eyes, and tried to smile, but found that his skin wouldn't stretch far enough. "I was wondering if you knew… where I should start with my divorce."

Hermione turned a little red, and fiddled with the hem of her shirt. "Oh," she said, "We'll I hardly think I'm the one to talk to about that. I'm just working for the elves."

"I know," Ron said, "But Harry said you might know since you're trying to get House Elves the right to marry."

Hermione looked up from the bottom of her shirt. "You make it sound even more pathetic than it is," she said. Ron didn't know what to say to that, so he just watched her. She smiled wanly at him, before continuing, "I guess I can help you a little bit. I have some papers here," she said, rifling through a drawer open in her desk. "Erm… You should talk to Marcus Crull in the Department of Wizard Rights. He can get you all the right papers and… set you up with a lawyer."

She crossed out from behind her desk and stood in front of him. He realized she was still very short compared to him: The top of her head barely reached his chin. 'I could come with you to his office," she said. "I mean… I should look into the whole process myself."

He nodded, and headed out of the door. Hermione came out with a purple bag on her shoulder, over a black coat, and all the colors made her face look very bright. "Well, lead the way," he said and she walked down the hall before holding the elevator open for him.

They rode downstairs in silence.

* * *

"Well, that's the last page." Hermione said, smiling at Ron over a pile of forms as tall as her arm was long.

Ron smiled back: They had been working on these files since that morning, and it was now (Ron glanced at the clock on the wall) three in the afternoon. They'd been there at least eight hours, and Ron was exhausted, but now all there was left to do was get Lavender to sign the papers. He wondered what her reaction would be, and if she would have Malfoy with her at the time. Ron surely hoped not.

He leaned back in his chair, and watched Hermione, whose upper torso had disappeared behind her desk: He could tell by the sound of her hands that she was rummaging in her bag. Her back curved elegantly and her hair, he realized, almost reached her lower back.

"You grew your hair out," Ron said pointedly. Hermione pulled up from behind her desk, looking surprised that Ron had noticed, but she recovered and nodded. "It doesn't get as messy as it does shorter," she said, and then she picked her bag up from beside her.

"Do you want to go get some tea?" she asked him.

Ron thought about for a moment, and decided he could use a little caffeine, so he agreed.

They left her office again, and Hermione took his hand outside the Atrium and apparated them away. They landed in Hogsmeade and Ron felt apprehensive for a moment. "We're not going to Madame Pudifutt's are we?"

Hermione let go of his hand, and said, "Of course not. That place nauseates me. My ex-boy… Erm, never mind. There's a new place next to the Post Office and it's quite good."

And then she lead the way. He opened the door for her to a warm tea shop: There was a fire roaring in the center of the nearest wall, and a bar set up in the corner. The chairs were covered in shiny, red velvet and the room was lit moderately darkly.

They sat themselves down at a table near the fire, and a waiter came and asked for their order. "I'll have black tea," Hermione said, giving the waiter her menu. Ron ordered the same, before slumping back in his chair. Hermione appraised him, before turning to stare deeply at the fire. The flames made her eyes shine, and a bracelet on her arm sent shimmers onto an empty glass on a nearby table.

"So," Ron said, trying to start some conversation, "You've been working for the Elves Rights… all this time?"

"_All this time_?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow at him. But she continued on, saying, "I've been working in the Department for the Rights of Magical Creatures at least 5 years. I started out working for all the underprivileged creatures but I decided I couldn't make too much of a difference working on such a broad scale. So I decided, in honor of S-P-E-W," she smiled at him, "that I would continue with the elves. It's a hard job, because there's still so much prejudice out there from Jack-Asses like Lucius Malfoy, but I'm not giving up."

Ron was surprised she had so blatantly cursed someone, but found he was impressed. He struggled with what to say for a moment, before saying, "Impressive. It sounds like your living up to your potential."

Hermione tilted her head to the right. She frowned and asked him, "What potential?"

Ron was even more shocked. "Wh- What _potential? Hermione, _you can't be serious? Do you honestly not know how smart you were at Hogwarts? And, obviously, still are? I mean, honestly, you cann_ot _be so modest about that."

Hermione blushed, "Well… Thank you, Ron."

He nodded at her, and the waiter brought their tea to them. "Let me know if you need anything else," she said, before walking away.

Hermione thanked her quietly before sipping her tea daintily. Ron grabbed a large container of sugar off of the table, and poured some into his tea. He sipped it, and grimaced, before adding more sugar and then some cream from a silver container. Hermione continued to drink her plain tea, and Ron asked her, "Don't you want some sugar, or cream?"

She shook her head and said, "I like it plain, like a lot of things."

He nodded, and finished the rest of his tea very quickly. Hermione continued to sip slowly and Ron sat in silence for some while she finished it.

Then they began the polite chatter again, and Hermione asked him, "What about _your_ work?"

He frowned, looking down at the dregs in his cup, which reminded him of Third year at Hogwarts, and the fight they'd had about their pets. But he looked back up and said, "I worked at a small Quidittch supplies manufacturer for the past three years. Lavender… well, she pressured me to get that job and I never really liked it. I was bored and…. Well, I'd much rather be using Quidittch supplies than making them. It made decent money though."

"Sounds like you didn't live up to _your potential."_

Ron considered that for a moment before he raised his cup to her. "I sure do hope so," he said. "But I'm sure that divorcing Lavender is the start of a new lifestyle for me."

Hermione appraised him for a moment, before she raised her cup and clincked it against his. "To divorcing Lavender," she said, looking him straight in the eye. Ron had to resist the urge to look away, because he found her statement a little sad _and_ awkward, but he didn't let his eyes wander. "To divorcing Lavender," he said.

And so began Ron's new lifestyle.

**Please Review!!!!!! Every word makes my heart lift!! : )**


	10. Freedom

**A/N: Here's the next chapter!!! Hope you LOVE it!!!**

Chapter 9:

A few days later, on Sunday, Hermione came over to the Burrow for brunch. The sun shone high in the sky, illuminating the soft white china of the plates on the kitchen table, which had been brought outside, and a warm breeze wafted over the people crowded around the table. It seemed that the whole family had arrived today, including Bill, Fleur, Charlie and Teddy, whom Mrs. Tonks had given to Harry for the day. Teddy was seated at the head of the table, in a high-chair across from Arthur, and Harry and Ginny kept smiling at him, clearly happy that they were now expecting a child of their own.

Ron reached for a plate of biscuits across the table from him. He smiled at Hermione, who he caught looking at him, and she smiled shyly back. Over the past few days, Hermione had insisted on helping him review his divorce papers, because she said the better they were, the more the Judge would side with him in the court room. Being judged on how he'd handled his marriage wasn't something Ron had considered before, and he was nervous for the first time. But upon telling this to Hermione, she had told him he hadn't done anything wrong, that the Judge would have to side with Ron, because infidelity wasn't something Wizard courts took lightly.

Tomorrow he and Hermione were going to take the papers to Lavender: Ron hoped that Lavender wouldn't try to pull anything on him, but he knew even if she did, he wouldn't back down. He'd made his decision.

He chewed on a biscuit slowly, mulling things over in his mind, before pulling the butter on the table towards him and spreading it on the rest of his biscuit with his knife. After finishing, he sighed and slumped back in his chair.

"You okay Ron?" Hermione asked him. He sat up in his chair, a little embarrassed, before nodding at her.

"Just thinking," he said.

Hermione knew him so well: "About tomorrow?"

Ron nodded adamantly, before looking out over the table and his family at the apple orchard up the hill. He decided he would fly his broom later, as he watched fluffy clouds scuttle along the horizon.

But he was brought back down to the ground when he felt someone's hand on his.

Looking down, he saw it was Hermione's, and he examined her hand for a moment: It was slender, and clean, but slightly calloused, he supposed, from flipping the pages of books so often. He looked up at her and saw concerned pity in her eyes, and something else he didn't recognize. She smiled at him. "Everything's going to be fine, Ron. You're papers are spotless."

He shook his head. "That's not what I'm worried about."

Hermione's mouth fell into a small 'o'. She pulled her hand away, and said softly, "I see… It's Lavender."

Ron nodded again, for what felt like the thousandth time that day.

Hermione stood up, and grabbed her plate off the table. "I'm sure she'll a-… I'm going to help your mother with the dishes."

Ron watched her hurry across the lawn, and realized only then that he was alone at the table. He pulled his wand out of his pocket, before pointing it at his bedroom window and muttering, "Accio Broom."

His broom flew out of his bedroom window and he caught it in his free hand. He felt that a good ride around the orchard was exactly what he needed.

He was unaware of the woman watching him from the kitchen window.

* * *

The next morning Ron took extra care in getting himself ready. He wanted to seem formal and well prepared when he brought the papers to Lavender, to show her how serious he really was. He hoped Hermione would think the same way, but reminded himself that Hermione was always well dressed, and he need not worry.

After combing his hair one more time on his way out his bedroom door, Ron took his time going down the stairs. He refused breakfast from his mother, something he rarely, if not never, did. Then he grabbed the forms, which he'd set on the shelf across from the kitchen table, and ran a hand over the smooth edges. He'd made sure to keep the papers away from other hands.

Hermione had told him she would meet him at the Burrow, and so Ron took a seat in his favorite chair on the porch to wait for her. It was a somewhat gloomy day, though there weren't any clouds, and it only made him more nervous than he already was. He drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair in a repeating pattern and was surprised to find, by looking at his watch, that Hermione was late. He'd never known Hermione to be late in her life.

After waiting a few more minutes, a loud pop announced Hermione's arrival and he watched in amusement as she put on her left shoe. "You all right?" he asked her.

She smoothed down her shirt, looking flustered, and pulled her sling-bag farther up her shoulder. "I overslept, I'm really sorry, but I hadn't showered in a while and…"

She blushed before adding, "Sorry."

He laughed at her, and she looked up at him nervously for a moment, before laughing with him.

"It's okay," he said, hand on his stomach. "I understand."

They stared at each other for a moment, before Hermione cleared her throat and said, "All right. We should… be going."

Ron let out a large breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Oh yeah," he said, halfheartedly, still worried about what he was going to do. "Let's get it over with."

He tried to smile as he grasped her small hand in his and turned on the spot, and the world disappeared in a whirl of dark.

* * *

Ron and Hermione landed outside of Lavender's door: Ron had apparated straight there so that he wouldn't chicken out before he got inside the building.

Hermione smiled encouragingly at him, before dropping his hand. She then nodded her head in the direction of the door, and upon seeing his reluctance, she pushed him forward. The jolt he felt in the bottom of his stomach when she touched his lower back was what motivated him to knock.

_Knock. _

_Knock._

_Knock. _

Ron rocked back and forth on his heels: He could hear Lavender moving around on the other side of the door and his heart began to pound. He gripped the Divorce papers tighter before moving them to his right hand, and smoothing them down nervously. He looked up when he heard the door open.

"Hel-" Lavender took one look at him, and tried to close the door: He pushed it open with much force and Lavender looked shocked.

"Lavender," he said, walking inside. Hermione followed after him, looking around at the boring apartment he'd lived in for so long. .

Lavender sat down on the couch and looked out of a window…. Actually she looked anywhere but at Ron, who failed to notice when Lavender glared menacingly at Hermione. Hermione just smirked.

"What are you doing here?" Lavender asked.

"It's my house," Ron said, but Hermione shook her head. _Get to the point, _she mouthed.

He cleared his throat. "Right," he said. "I've gone over it a thousand times in my head and I've come to a decision: You were unfaithful to me, which I didn't realize until the last possible moment, and now that I look back on it, I was never really happy with you. There was always something missing. So…"

He handed her the papers and she looked at him for the first time: Her light green eyes looked slightly remorseful when she looked up from the papers and for a moment Ron longed to take it, and her, back, but he knew that was Bull Shit. Lavender had always used her eyes to get what she wanted, and now, especially, he wasn't going to fall for it.

"What do I do with these?" she asked him.

Hermione spoke for the first time: "You sign them. State what you want out of the divorce, choose a court date. It can happen quickly and painlessly. That's how w-… that's how both of you should want it done."

Lavender didn't look at Hermione. She just stared at Ron, before reaching across the table in front of her and grabbing a pen.

Ron watched apprehensively as she read and signed the first page, then the next, and so on. She didn't scratch anything out, or comment on anything either. Ron couldn't believe his eyes, and found that a heavy weight had been lifted off of his chest.

_Freedom, _he thought.

He glanced at Hermione: She looked triumphant, as if it was she who was losing the person who had hindered her, and Ron found that feeling a little strange in Hermione. He found it almost smug.

But when Hermione looked at him, and her deep brown eyes met his, her pupils wide, her eyebrows raised slightly and her lips curling up into a small smile, he realized Hermione was just happy for him, and he was lucky to have such a good friend back in his life.

She didn't turn away and Ron held her gaze, while his breathing slowed a little. He didn't notice as Lavender finished with her last form and cleared her throat.

Hermione turned to Lavender, and Ron followed, realizing Lavender was done.

"You can owl me if there are any problems," she said. "I signed everything you need and the 5th of June is the best date for me. That's a month from now."

Ron nodded, before standing up and taking the papers from Lavender. He wondered if he should shake her hand but decided against it. "Thank you," he said, and then he went straight out of the door, leaving his soon to be ex-wife alone in the apartment.

Hermione smiled at him, and he pulled her into a hug, squeezing her hard to convey how much she'd helped him. "Thank you," he said. "I couldn't have done that without you."

"You could've, Ron. You have a strong will."

Ron wasn't sure what she meant by that, though he knew it was a good thing, and so he asked her, "Would you like to celebrate with a butterbeer?"

Hermione licked her lips, and Ron felt something tug at his heart, deep inside of him. "Yes please," she said, and then she grabbed his hand and apparated them to the Leaky Cauldron.

* * *

They sat in a booth Ron remembered sharing with Lavender when they'd first been dating, but he found it didn't affect him. They ordered Butterbeer's and toasted, oddly enough, to_ 'The Divorce'. _Hermione smiled the whole time they sat together.

Conversation came very easily for the first time since they'd become friends again, and Ron found that he could look her straight in the eyes and not feel weird about it. They talked about the Hogwarts Day's, the Battle, Harry and Ginny, and even what living with Lavender had been like. Finally, Ron asked Hermione about _her _personal life since they'd gone separate ways.

That was when Hermione stopped smiling, and the tension mounted.

"Oh…" she said, looking like she wished he hadn't asked. "Well, I've been very busy at work over the past 5 years. I brought my parents back from Australia and they love living in the U.K. again, which surprised me. The place they lived in Australia was so breathtakingly beautiful, and peaceful and romantic. I never would've left. Of course…"

Ron didn't listen to her talk anymore about Australia. Quite honestly, he found it boring, and he'd asked Hermione about her personal life to find out how much time she'd actually spent at The Burrow and whether or not she'd dated anyone important. She'd successfully evaded answering both of those questions, and Ron found it very mysterious.

After much talk of Australia and freeing the Elves, Ron asked Hermione to eat dinner at the Burrow that night, to continue the celebration, as he put. She politely declined, saying. "Oh, no, I really shouldn't. It puts too much stress on your mother, feeding all those people and I really don't want to impose. Besides, I'm dead tired and need to be up early for work tomorrow."

Ron nodded, before squeezing her hand one more time in appreciation, and then watching her apparate home. He followed suit, and when he crawled into his bed that night, and watched the Seeker from the Chuddley Cannons fly by on a poster across the room from him, Ron couldn't help but feel childish. Hermione had worked so hard for everything and Ron had always gotten by on luck, or asked too much of others. He felt inadequate when compared to her.

**Ah, yes, this was a hard one to write. Please Read and Review! It's going to get very interesting soon!!!**

**: )**


	11. Moments

Chapter 10:

Over the next three weeks, Ron felt like he spent half of his time moving his things out of his old apartment, and half with Hermione. When she was busy at work, Ron would pack his clothes into a suitcase, and then bring them home to the Burrow. He was running out of room for all of his belongings in his tiny bed room, and though she didn't say anything, he knew that it was harder for his mother having another person back in the house. He promised himself he would look for a home of his own when the divorce was final.

One day, as he unpacked a box full of junk from the apartment, he found an old photo album. He flipped through it quickly, but nothing caught his eye from scanning it, so he sat down beside his bed and began to look through it. The first 10 pages were stuffed with pictures of his family before he went to Hogwarts. But on the eleventh page he saw the first one of him at Hogwarts. He, Harry, and Hermione were at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, grinning ear to ear, a plate of food in front of each of them. It looked like he had a stain on his shirt, and Harry's hair was sticking up all over, but Hermione looked prim and proper, though her teeth were quite large. He watched in amusement as Hermione wiped something off of his chin with her napkin and wondered who had taken this picture. It looked to be from their first year.

He saw how they'd all grown up as he continued through the album, and smiled at a picture of Dumbledore's Army from fifth year. The last picture was one of him and Lavender on the day they'd announced their engagement. He grimaced at the sight of Lavender showing her ring off at the camera and half sighed, half laughed at the sight of Ginny rolling her eyes. The rest of his family looked a little shocked, and slightly unnerved behind his old self and Lavender.

Ron closed the photo album and set it on his bed: He then began to continue looking through the box from the apartment, but he found he couldn't concentrate. He sighed and stood up, before scanning his cluttered room for his Broom. He saw the tail end of it sticking out from under a large pile of wrinkled shirts and stepped over a few boxes to bend down and grab it. He then headed out of his bedroom door and hopped down the steps. Once in the kitchen, he poured himself a glass of orange juice and drank it in a few loud gulps. He set his glass down on the kitchen counter and slung his broom over his right shoulder.

The sun shone high in the sky outside, and Ron was momentarily blinded. He fumbled down the Porch steps, and walked across the lawn, regaining his vision. Multicolored flowers were blooming around the yard, and the sky was cloudless. A slightly chilly breeze blew the hair out of Ron's face as he mounted his broom, and ascended into the air. He laughed out loud as a bird flew past his face by barely an inch, and he continued to rise higher. Then he headed towards the hill with the goal posts and landed in the grass. All of the sudden, he didn't feel like flying.

He sat down cross-legged and fiddled with the grass in front of him. Something didn't feel right to him at that moment, though he'd been very happy over the past few weeks. Having Lavender almost officially out of his life was such a blessing, as he'd realized. He felt freer than ever, almost as if he had his innocence back, and he was still living life day to day.

He uncrossed his legs and lay back in the grass, closing his eyes. He breathed in and out slowly, and found that Hermione was the one thing he couldn't stop himself from thinking about. He tried to remember what it was they'd stop seeing each other over, but his memory was clouded, and nothing came to him.

_I must've said something really terrible, _he thought, _because our friendship couldn't have been ruined over something stupid. _

Ron laid there for a while, just thinking, and then he flew back inside and finished unpacking what he hoped was one of the last boxes.

* * *

Six days passed too quickly for Ron: And so the night before his Divorce Trial at the Ministry, Hermione came over to help him prepare. They were in his room, with the window open and a small table set up before them. It was covered in note cards Hermione had prepared for him to read his arguments off of.

She handed him a particularly long argument. He read the first few lines, nodding along, and he wondered how Hermione knew exactly how he now felt about Lavender: How bored he'd been all along, how she'd over exerted control on him, and how she had blatantly destroyed him when she defied him. But Hermione had always been much too smart.

He looked up at her from the card. She was biting her bottom lip, and twisting a strand of hair tightly around her pinkie finger: It seemed to him as if she expected him to be disappointed with what she'd wrote, but she couldn't have been more spot on. But he didn't give that much thought as she licked the spot where she'd bitten her lip, and let go of her hair.

"I think you'll be fine tomorrow," she said.

Ron made himself look away from her lip and up at her eyes. He nodded, and pulled back from the table, realizing then that he'd been leaning farther and farther over it.

She sighed, and pushed her chair backwards before standing and walking to look out the window, rubbing her left arm up and down with her right hand.

"You OK?" Ron asked her.

"Of course," she said, but she didn't turn around and it made Ron a little wary.

He finished reading the note card, before putting it down and saying, "I honestly can't prepare any longer. My mind is going to explode. Should we go down to dinner?"

Hermione turned around and nodded, before smiling slightly and Ron returned the smile. He held the door open for her and walked down the stairs, wishing she'd go a little faster. They entered the Living Room, and found Harry and Ginny on the couch, Molly across from them in a chair. Ron sat down on the window seat, and Hermione sat beside him.

"Thought of any baby names yet?" His mother asked Ginny.

Ginny shook her head.

"Well," Molly said, noticing Hermione and Ron had entered the room, "That's all in good time. What have you two been up to?"

"Preparing for the Trial tomorrow," Hermione said. "I think we- I think he's ready for it."

Ginny raised an eyebrow at Hermione, which confused Ron. A moment of awkward silence passed between all the people in the room, but then Ginny shook her head and stood up. "I think it's time for dinner, don't you?" She pulled Harry off the couch, and Hermione stood up and followed them out.

Molly looked at her son for a moment, smiled, and said, "I'm excited for you Ron. You've got a lot of good ahead of you."

Ron gulped, because her statement sounded a lot like a demand for something. But his mother stood up, and went into the kitchen.

"How does spaghetti sound?" she asked the crowd waiting there. Ron looked out the window at the setting sun for a few minutes, trying to figure what his mother meant. But it wasn't until dinner, when he spilled his water all over Hermione and she just blushed, that he realized what she'd meant.

* * *

Walk through the Atrium. Count and recount the forms in your hands. Avoid Hermione's worried glance. Step, step, step… Breath: This was list of commands that Ron told himself to follow. Now that the trial was less than 10 minutes away, Ron was frantic. He kept going over everything in his head and he'd relived the moment he'd found Lavender unfaithful a thousand times, each more horrific than the last.

Ron entered an empty lift, forgot to hold the door open for Hermione and jammed the button for the seventh floor. Hermione slipped in at the last possible moment and shot Ron a very concerned glance. "Everything's going to be fine," she told him.

"How do you know?" Ron snapped at her. Hermione flinched, and he instantly regretted saying anything. "I'm sorry… I'm just really nervous."

Embarrassed, he turned away from her and fiddled with the bottom of his shirt. A moment passed, but then he felt Hermione slip her soft, warm hand into his and slowly pry his fingers away from the fabric before squeezing his hand tightly.

She whispered, "Are you sure you want to go through with this? That you don't… love her?"

Ron looked down at their entwined hands and then up at Hermione's face: her eyes were sparkling in the dim lighting of the lift, and a twisted strand of her hair had fallen out of her headband, and tickled her nose. Without thinking, he raised his free hand and tucked it behind her ear. Her eyelids fluttered close as his skin brushed hers softly, Goosebumps rose on the soft skin of her cheeks, and he realized they were both blushing. He felt his stomach swoop when the lift reached his floor, but didn't think it had anything to do with the sudden stop.

Hermione didn't seem to have noticed, and her eyes stayed close. Ron found he couldn't speak, so he just stood still and kept Hermione's hand in his. But their moment was interrupted by a quiet, yet obviously intentional cough, and Ron turned to find Lavender standing right outside the golden doors of the lift.

Hermione opened her eyes, and looked first at Ron, then Lavender, before letting go of Ron's hand, and stepping quickly out of the lift. Ron shook his head to clear his jumbled thoughts, before following Hermione out of the lift. Lavender looked him up and down, and her eyes rested on the dark circles under his eyes, due to the sleepless night he'd had before. She rolled her eyes, before turning and staring at her reflection in a mirror on her left. She smiled cheekily at herself, before turning back to Hermione, looking her up and down, and smirking.

Right then Ron knew he was sure.

"In answer to your question, 'Mione, Yes, I am positive I am doing the right thing." Hermione beamed and Lavender scowled, because the original question was pretty obvious. Lavender turned and walked away.

They made their way down a short hallway and reached a black, ominous looking door: Ron gulped and grabbed the door knob, before turning it the wrong way and having to try again. This time, he made sure to hold the door wide open.

The room they entered was small, but the ceiling towered above them. There were two empty tables, with a few chairs, facing an elevated table Ron assumed was for the judge.

Hermione led him to the table on the right, and pulled out two chairs. He sat down in one of them and looked around nervously.

Lavender settled down in the chair farthest from Ron, and Hermione took the papers from him because he was starting to crumple them up.

A few minutes later, a woman in a white robe closed the door behind her, strode over to the table and took the papers from Hermione, before taking her time to reach the table in the back of the room. She sat down in her chair and smiled, but it didn't calm Ron at all.

"So, you've requested a divorce under Wizarding Law VVII, Mr…" she looked down at her papers, "Weasley?"

"Yes Ma'am," Ron choked out.

"And you requested an equal share of the assets?"

Lavender spoke up. "I didn't agree to that! I want a bigger share!"

Hermione looked at her, then the Judge, and said, "Your Honor, if I may, she signed the papers and it says in the print that the assets should be split in half."

"And who are you?" the Judge asked.

"I'm… just a friend of… Mr. Weasley's, but I work in the ministry and-"

"Thank you Ms.-?"

"Granger, Ma'am."

"Yes, that will be enough."

Hermione nodded her head adamantly and then she sat back farther in her chair.

"I'm going to read through the files, and then I will deliberate," the Judge said. She turned herself around in her chair, and disappeared behind the back of it. Ron looked to Hermione for suggestions, but she didn't say anything. She just nodded her head as if to say, _You're through._

And Ron discovered she was right.


	12. Not Tonight

Ron woke up the following morning on the couch in the living room at the Burrow. He lay there thinking of nothing for a moment, his thoughts a complete blur, before he remembered the events of the day before. He smiled widely when he thought to himself, _I'm not a married man anymore._

He bounded off the couch, ran outside and down the steps and onto the brightly colored lawn. He held his hands out in front of him and twirled around in a circle, feeling extremely ridiculous, but he threw his head back and laughed out loud, the blue, blue sky spreading out above him, not a cloud in view. He became so dizzy after a few minutes of twirling that he collapsed onto the grass, still laughing.

He lay there, looking up at the beautiful sky, until the world stopped spinning and he could sit up. Only then did he see the silhouette against the porch steps, bent over in laughter.

He stood up and sat beside Hermione on the porch step.

"You seem pretty happy today," she said.

He chuckled. "Yeah, I guess I am. Did you stay over last night?"

Hermione nodded. "Yeah," she said. "Your mom said I might as well stay, because it was so late when we finally stopped celebrating and I was a _little_ tipsy." She blushed then as if she'd said a little too much, but Ron didn't think it was anything to be embarrassed about: In fact, he found it quite appealing that Hermione could let herself go every once in a while, something he didn't think he'd ever realized before. He stared at her for a moment, her hair blowing back from her face in the breeze and her cheeks red, but forced himself to look away.

"Erm… Breakfast?" he asked her.

She nodded and stood up, before offering her hand to Ron. He took it and she helped him up, but he didn't let go of her hand. He couldn't bring himself to do so… He felt like he had to be touching her somewhere, and even the slight contact made them both shiver.

He pulled her into the kitchen, where his mother was already busy cooking for all the people at the Burrow that morning. Harry, Ginny, Bill, Charlie and George had all stayed over the night before, like Hermione.

Ginny came down the steps yawning and Harry stumbled down the steps behind her: they had both clearly just woken up.

Hermione let go of Ron's hand and sat herself down at the table: She raised an eyebrow at him and so he made himself sit next to her. Her hand dangled over the side of her chair, begging Ron to pick it up, but he saw Ginny smirking at him and decided not to give his little sister the satisfaction.

His mother put a huge plate of eggs on the table, with several serving spoons, and then she flicked her wand at the cupboard in the corner of the room and a stack of plates flew onto the table.

Ron picked one up, handed it to Hermione, and then grabbed one for himself. He loaded his plate down with a tower of scrambled eggs, and caught Hermione shaking her head in disbelief.

"I'm hungry," he told her, shrugging, and then he reached for the orange juice, pouring her a glass, and then, once again, one for himself. Ginny nudged Harry in the stomach and he gave a little _Oof!, _clearly not conscious enough to understand what she meant.

Ron gave up on trying to get Ginny off of his back. It was just too easy for him to try to please Hermione.

A minute later, everyone was at the table, and digging in, clearly hungry after sleeping in so long. Ron looked at his watch, and realized it was almost 12 o'clock.

A few minutes of silence passed, while Ron helped himself to more eggs and Hermione watched him out of the corner of her eye, before everyone pushed themselves back from the table. George belched and his mother scolded him, but she laughed along with everyone anyway. It was only then that Ron realized just how much he'd missed these mornings with his huge, discombobulated family. He didn't know how he'd ever functioned without them.

He caught Hermione's eye and she smiled at him. "What are you going to do now?" she asked.

Ron shrugged. "Look for a new apartment, I guess. That's not terribly exciting."

"It's a good next step, though." Hermione said.

Ron nodded, paused, and then asked her, "What do you think my second step should be?"

She smiled widely at him: "I think you'll have to figure that out for yourself."

* * *

"As you can see, this flat has a beautiful view of the countryside, and it's quite near the Ministry, so if you chose an occupation there, you won't have to commute far."

Ron found himself on a wooden deck, overlooking a green valley stretching miles and miles before him. This was the fifth apartment he'd looked at over the past two days, but he thought then to himself, _This is the one_. It had a large, open living room which led out to the deck he now stood on, a kitchen with sparkling new appliances he knew his mother would envy, and some magical box in the bedroom which his guide, who happened to be a muggle, called a Television. It was the kind of place he could imagine having his family over to, though they'd probably have to squeeze to fit through the entryway together, and, dare he say it, bring someone home to.

And why, he asked himself, did barely thinking that automatically bring Hermione to his mind? He thought he had an answer, but he was a little scared of it. He'd been divorced just days before and he was pretty sure he was already thinking about another woman. It frightened him beyond belief to think about the future, even the very next day, because he had no idea where he was going.

Well, he had some idea now: "I'll buy it," he said, turning back around to face his realtor, and she nodded happily at him.

"We'll start on the contract tonight, if you'd like."

"Absolutely," Ron answered. He took a final look out at the green valley behind him before following the woman out of the apartment, humming to himself. He hopped into her car in the parking lot and waited patiently as she drove to her office, a few blocks down from the apartment complex, and opened the door to endless amounts of paperwork and a few nights of little sleep.

It was all worth it.

* * *

After weeks of moving boxes, shopping for new furniture and filling his refrigerator, Ron was ready to show off his new abode. He'd straightened the couch in the living room at least 50 times, wiped the kitchen counters meticulously clean, and gone to the Leaky Cauldron to buy platters and platters of snacks for the unveiling. The dining room table, which was settled on a hardwood floor between the kitchen and living room, was overflowing with his, and his families, favorite foods.

He went back to his bedroom, and turned to stare at himself in the mirror. For some reason, he'd gone insane trying to find something to wear, pulling every last piece of clothing out of his new closet. He wanted this night to be really special. He felt more proud of moving himself into this new apartment than anything he'd ever done: Maybe it was because, stereotypically, he should've been really depressed about his divorce and he was glad he hadn't gone off the deep end. Or maybe he felt like he wanted his mother to really know he wouldn't be eating her out of house and home anymore. Either way, he was treating the occasion with the utmost respect. In the end, he'd decided on a collared shirt with a tie and black slacks.

He sprayed himself with a bit of cologne and straightened his tie, while glancing at the clock. He'd told his family to arrive at 6: 30 sharp, but he'd asked Hermione to come at 6:15. He wanted her to be the first to see it, because she'd helped him buy the right couch and matching towels, things he wouldn't have been able to accomplish by himself. He hadn't let her help him anymore though because he'd wanted it to be a surprise when he was finished.

It was 6:10, and Ron had no idea what he was going to do for the next five minutes: He might drive himself insane trying to pass the time.

He straightened the bedspread, turned a few frames to face him, and leant down to pull the bed skirt out from where it'd gotten caught in the sheets, before realizing he was acting nothing close to masculine. George would probably ask him if he'd gone loopy if he were there. And that wasn't something he wanted to be asked. He might be afraid of his answer.

The door bell rang.

In a flash, Ron was out of his bedroom and at the door, smoothing down the front of his shirt. He ran a hand through his hair before turning the door knob. Hermione stood on his doorstep, her hair piled in an elegant bun on the top of her head and wearing a simple black dress he'd never seen before, along with a blue jean jacket.

She smiled at him, and handed him a bottle of wine wrapped in brown paper. "Congratulations!"she said, her brown eyes sparkling. He found himself at a loss for words for a moment, staring at her lips, which were bare but full, before he could speak again. "Thanks," he said, making himself look away from her. He focused his gaze on the bottle in his hand, before looking back up and losing himself again.

"Well… Are you going to invite me in or leaving me standing here all night?"

Ron shook his head. "Of course, of course," he said, a little loudly. He pulled the door open a little wider and let her pass through but caught her wrist as she started to walk out of the hallway.

She lifted an eyebrow at him, before asking, "What?"

He put the bottle down on the floor behind him. "I have to cover your eyes. It's supposed to be a surprise."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah," he said. "Let me take your coat."

Hermione unbuttoned it with quick fingers before handing it to him. Ron only realized then that her dress barely covered her shoulders, and the sight of her bare skin made him shiver a little. She handed her coat to him, watched him hang it up on a hook on the wall behind him, before smiling. "All right. Surprise me."

Ron nodded. "Turn around," he told her. She turned and Ron hesitated just a few seconds before placing his hands carefully over her eyes. Her eyelashes fluttered against his palms, and he could hear her breathing in and out, but he made himself move her forward.

They walked into the living room and Ron leant down and whispered in Hermione's ear, "You ready?"

"Yeah," she said, and Ron felt her shoulders relax and her heat beating wildly. He pulled his hands back and let her look around the room.

She ran her hand over the couch, it's matching pillows and then the leather chair Ron had bought in Diagon Alley, before heading towards the fireplace and picking up a picture frame he'd put there. It held the picture of he, Harry and Hermione in the Great Hall that he'd found in his photo album, months ago.

He saw her grin from the side and couldn't help but grin along, glad that it pleased her. She lifted "Hogwarts, a History," off of the coffee table, before putting it back down slowly, as if it weighed more than it actually did.

She turned to face him, and said, "It's wonderful, Ron. You did a great job with this place."

She looked back at the table, picked the book back up, and brought it to him. "Have you ever actually read this?"

Ron flipped it over in his hand, and thought about it for a moment. "I might've flipped through it once or twice," he said.

Hermione laughed. "Well, until you find work, you'll have a lot of time to read. Maybe you'll actually enjoy it."

"Not tonight," Ron said, and he took a little step closer to her, watching her reaction. He could see the freckles on the bridge of her nose from where he stood, and could feel her breath, warm and sweet. He found himself leaning down to her level, unable to stop himself, and he felt his heart skip a beat as her eyes fluttered close, her breath became shallow. His lips were just centimeters from hers when someone knocked on the front door, and Hermione's eyes flew open.

She took a step back and stared at him, before moving past him and walking to the door. Her heels clicked against the tile in the entry and Ron stayed where he was just listening to her footsteps.

"Harry!" she said, and Ron assumed she was embracing him. "Where's Ginny?"

"She couldn't find her favorite shoes, so she told me to go on."

Ron sighed and threw the book down on his coffee table, before meeting his two best friends in the hall.

"Hey, mate," Harry said as he shook Ron's hand. "The place looks great." He looked between Hermione, who was staring at the floor, and Ron, who had a far off look in his eyes, before asking, "Do you want to give me a tour?"

Ron nodded and picked the wine bottle Hermione had brought up from the floor. He headed to the kitchen and put it down on the counter next to the sink. "Well, this is the kitchen. Hermione bought those towels…"

* * *

**Review Please!**

**: )**


	13. Feels like Old Times

Half an hour later, Ron's entire family was seated in the dining room and living room, as well as on the balcony. The sun was shining, and heat filtered through the windows, so Ron had Harry turn up the air conditioning, because he wasn't sure how to work it himself.

His mother had been beside herself with pride for him: She had squeezed him so tightly when she saw the matching furniture in the living room that he'd nearly suffocated from her embrace. He'd been quite embarrassed afterwards, when Hermione had laughed at his purple face.

Ginny, Harry and Hermione were now seated outside on the balcony; His mother was in the kitchen, his father was asleep on the couch, and Bill, George, and Charlie were playing a game of Exploding Snap on the rug. Ron stood aside from all the commotion for a moment, humming an old Celestina Warbeck song to himself, before he decided to join his sister and his friends.

"I told you he could pull it off," Hermione was saying. "He's not as incompetent as you think."

"Thanks for the compliment," Ron said, and he pulled one of his new, green plastic deckchairs up to the table they'd gathered around.

"Oh," Hermione said. She blushed, looked away, and began to play with a loose thread on the cuff of her sleeve. "You're welcome."

Ginny winked at Ron and Harry grinned. Ron couldn't help but feel like he was the center of some diabolical plan they'd come up with to torture him.

"Would you like something to drink?" Harry asked his wife, and Ginny nodded.

"I'll come with you to get it," she said, and the two of them stood up and walked into Ron's flat, sliding the glass door shut behind them.

Hermione continued to play with her sleeve, and without thinking, Ron took a hold of it. He pulled slowly on the loose string, wrapped it around his pinkie finger, and yanked it away, breaking it off of her shirt.

Hermione looked at him then. "Thank you," she said, but she didn't smile and she looked upset about something.

Ron cocked his head to the side, and had to close his left eye so the sun wouldn't blind him.

"What's bothering you?" he asked her.

Hermione just shook her head. "Nothing. Everything's going… perfectly." Her mouth twitched on the right side, drawing Ron's attention quickly but he resisted the impulse to lean in to her, gripping the arms of his chair with his hands as tightly as he possibly could.

Hermione stood up. "I'd best be going," she said. Ron frowned. "You're not going to stay for dinner?"

She shook her head. "I have dinner with my parents every Sunday night. It's been a tradition for the past… well, four or five years. Thank you for inviting me though."

"Of course," Ron said, though he was thoroughly disappointed. "I'll walk you out."

Hermione pulled open the screen door, and stepped inside. Ron didn't bother shutting it behind him.

Hermione said her goodbye's to his family as she walked through the living room. She didn't stop to hug anyone, claiming she was already late for her family dinner, but Ron had a feeling she was fibbing a little.

In the entryway, he made sure to grab Hermione's coat before she could, and thought about insisting he help her put it on, but he decided against it: It was warm out then and she would certainly see his through ulterior motive, so he just handed it to her.

"Goodbye, Ron," Hermione said as he opened the door for her.

"Thanks for coming," he said. He kissed her cheek quickly, and shut the door before she could say anything about it.

In hindsight, it was probably a really stupid thing to do.

The next morning, Ron apparated into Diagon Alley and made his way down the main street, which was, as always, bustling with activity. He watched a woman drag her two little girls along behind her, obviously agitated, and he couldn't help but grin at the expression on her face.

He grabbed a Daily Prophet off the top of an overflowing rubbish bin, before sitting himself down on the bottom step to Gringott's Bank. He flipped to the classifieds and looked under the column that read, _Quidittch. _He'd thought about it a lot and realized he didn't imagine himself working in an office, or at the ministry, but instead, on a broom. He'd always dreamed of being an international Quidittch player but he'd put that dream on hold for Lavender. Now that she was gone… he couldn't think of a reason not to try for it. And it was almost summer, which was when teams began to search for new players in order to get ready for the fall season.

Just thinking about it got him excited.

Scanning the page carefully he found there was an open try-out for the Cannons, his _dream _team, exactly a month from then. He chuckled to himself, very pleased with the way things had turned out.

Ron got up from his seat on the stairs and folded the _Prophet _in half, before putting it in his back pocket.

He bought himself an ice cream on his way out of Diagon Alley, before apparating to the Burrow: If he was going to be a real Quidittch player by next month, he'd have to start practicing as soon as possible.

"Hey Mum," Ron said as he bounded into the kitchen. His mother looked up from a loaf of bread she'd been slicing and smiled at him, before kissing him on the cheek.

"Are you enjoying your new apartment?" she asked him as he sat down in a stool across the counter from her.

Ron nodded adamantly. "I love it," he said. "I couldn't have gotten anything better."

"And you're enjoying the single life?"

Ron thought about it for a moment, his mind suddenly on _Hogwarts, a History, _and deep brown eyes, before saying cautiously, "It's all right."

His mother laughed, winking at him. "_Hermione_ and Ginny are up in Ginny's old room."

"Oh, well, I was actually going to play Quidittch but…" He paused, frowning at the amused expression on his mother's face, before adding, "I'll go up and talk to them."

He made his way out of the kitchen, and started up the stairs, taking them slowly. He wondered why the house was so quiet, but guessed that everyone else was just working.

He stopped on the third landing where his sister's bedroom was, reached for the door knob, and then paused, hearing his name.

"What do you mean, _without Ron_, Hermione?"

He heard Hermione sigh. "I'm just trying to explain to how hard it was for me… last time."

"Last time what?"

"The last time we didn't' speak. It… destroyed me."

"Hermione…"

"No, Ginny, I'm serious! You don't have any idea how much he meant to me! And the things he said just tore me apart! I was a complete disaster."

No one said anything for a moment, and Ron was about to open the door and pretend he hadn't heard when Hermione spoke again.

"And I'm falling for him again," she said. "I don't think there'll be any going back this time. I've always l-… I've always been too attached."

Ron stood there rooted to the spot for a moment, listening to the silence echoing throughout the house, before he turned around and began to flee down the stairs.

He'd gone 3 steps when he decided he was being a coward and walked back up to his sister's landing, before opening her bedroom door without a moment's hesitation.

Ginny and Hermione both stared at him in the door way, before Ginny stood up.

"Hey Ron!" she said, obviously trying to pull his attention away from Hermione, whose eyes looked red and puffy. "When did you get here?"

"Oh, just half a minute ago," Ron lied, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. He stepped around Ginny and smiled at Hermione, though he still felt wary about what he'd overheard, before saying, "Hey 'Mione, what's up?"

Hermione half smiled and stood up in front of him. "Not much," she said, "Just discussing baby names for your future niece, or nephew." She smiled at Ginny behind him before putting her hands in the front pockets of her jeans and rolling back and forth on the balls of her feet. "Well, I'd best be going," she said. "I promised a friend from work that I'd baby sit her kids tonight."

Ron frowned and stared at Hermione for a moment. Despite the swollen look of her eyes and a little mascara smeared underneath them, she looked very pretty that morning, and he couldn't help the words that he spoke next. "You sure you have to go?" he asked her, frowning a little more than was necessary.

Hermione looked taken aback but smiled a little wider, her eyes sparkling.

"Well," she said, looking down at her feet, "I suppose I could stay for fifteen minutes or so."

Ron smiled with her, before grabbing her hand and pulling her out of Ginny's room and down the stairs.

"Guess what?" he asked her.

Hermione laughed. "What?"

"I said guess," Ron said, winking at her.

She rolled her eyes and smiled at him. "Okay… Erm… You bought a new lamp for your apartment?"

Ron shook his head. "I'm going to try out for the Cannons, a month from today. They need a new keeper."

"That's awesome!" Hermione said, beaming genuinely. "I'm sure you'll make it. And maybe the Cannons will actually win a game with you."

Ron grimaced, pretending to be offended. "Don't insult the Cannons, Hermione. That hurts," he said, sticking his tongue out at her. She laughed again, throwing back her head and wafting the smell of her perfume towards him. He inhaled deeply as they walked into the living room and sat down on the couch.

"Anyway," he said, "That's why I came by, to practice for the try-outs, but I didn't remember that I left my broom at my flat and can't really do much today, until… now."

Hermione just smiled at him, and leaned farther back into the couch. Neither of them spoke for a moment, but then Hermione surprised him by saying, "You know, this feels like old times."

"Yeah," Ron said, "Except then we were worrying about living through the night."

Hermione looked sideways at him, her expression contemplative. "I guess," she said, "But I miss those days anyway: I knew exactly what I wanted, what I was fighting for. Now, my life's easier but… boring… and in a way, more complicated. Does that make any sense?"

"Yes," Ron said, quite seriously. In his own way, he knew exactly what she was talking about. During the war he'd known exactly what he wanted, what he was trying to accomplish, but now that he'd started all over, and had nothing to fight against, he found that his life was boring. Though as he sat there with Hermione, that all left him and his life didn't feel so monotonous. He was happy.

"Hermione…" he said.

"Yeah?"

"I... would you like to go out to dinner with me tomorrow night?"

Hermione blushed but smiled. "I'd love to," she said.

"Cool," Ron said, relieved. He'd thought for a moment that she'd turn him down flat, but it seemed she wanted exactly what he wanted. "Sounds like a date," he said, and Hermione nodded, and then blushed, again.

They sat together on the couch for a few minutes, neither speaking, but they did look at each other a lot. Hermione looked pleased: There was a sparkle in her eyes that he remembered seeing when she'd gotten an _Outstanding _ on an assignment at school, or made a new discovery in the library. It made him want to make her eyes sparkle in his own way.

Finally, Hermione stood up. "I really have to go," she said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay, Ron said, standing up beside her. "I'll pick you up at your flat about 7 tomorrow. Is that good?"

"Yeah," she said. "I can't wait."

Hermione smiled and turned around, leaving the room quickly. Ron was slightly disappointed that she hadn't kissed, or even hugged him goodbye, but that thought didn't last long. Tomorrow he was going out with her… and maybe he'd get his second chance.


	14. Wonderful

**Soooo... Sorry It's been so long! But this, at least I think, is the best and definitely longest, chapter so far. **

**Enjoy!**

**A Second Chance: Chapter 13:**

Ron was, in a word… fidgety. He'd been up since seven o'clock in the morning, just thinking about his date with Hermione. _What would it be like? _He wondered. _Would it be awkward or easy-going? Would he embarrass himself or would Hermione be pleased? What if he choked on something or began to sweat uncontrollably? _These were just a few of the questions racing around Ron's mind.

Around five in the afternoon, Ron began to get ready. He took a shower, shaved, combed his hair more meticulously than he had ever before, and applied plenty of deodorant to his underarms, just in case.

After staring into the depths of his closet for at least half an hour, Ron decided on a pair of black slacks, with a blue button down shirt, and a brown belt. He was comparing a green and a gold tie when he heard someone knock on his front door.

He ran to the door with one tie in each hand, wondering who could possibly be at his door, at that critical moment in time.

It was Ginny.

"Hey Ron," she said, stepping inside. She took off her sunglasses, and her coat, and handed them to him, while he stood helpless in the doorway. He put her coat on the rack, and the glasses on the kitchen counter, before following her into the living room.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her.

"I came to help you get ready… and talk to you." She appraised him quickly.

"First of all," she said, "lose the belt." He obeyed and took the belt off and put it on the table. He showed her the ties, and Ginny shook her head at both of them. "Go without one, you look better causal."

"Whatever you say," Ron said. "Finished?"

"One last touch," Ginny said, waltzing out of the room. She came back with his comb and a bottle of hair gel.

"Sit."

He sat down on the edge of the table, and felt her run her gel-coated fingers through his hair. Suddenly apprehensive, he muttered, "You sure you know what you're doing?"

"Of course, Ronald," Ginny said. He rolled his eyes when he felt the comb in his hair, and then Ginny sat down on the couch, across from him.

"So, I have just a few things to say, Ron. Hermione is vulnerable, and always has been when it comes to… you. I'm just warning you, because I know how much she means to you, that if you break her heart again, I don't think she'll forgive you. Hermione trusts people easily, until they've hurt her many times, and… I'm not counting but you're already cutting it close."

Ron stared at her. He couldn't believe this: It was like his own sister thought he was a heartless playboy or something. He had no intention of hurting Hermione. Hell, he didn't even want to get serious with her at this point. At that moment, all he really wanted was a first date with her.

"Believe me Ginny," he said, "I don't want to hurt Hermione. I really care about her. Right now, I just want to have fun with her. I just want us to start where we left off…" Ron paused: He wasn't sure where that was.

"Where is that?"

Ron sighed. "I don't know."

He stood up and turned away from Ginny, unsure of what to say next. After a few moments of silence, he felt his sister place a consoling hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry, Ron," she said. "Everything always works out in the long-run."

Ron chuckled, turning around. "You're lucky you got there so easily."

Ginny shook her head, but smiled at him.

"Harry's remarkably easy to deal with. He doesn't like conflict. I'd best be going," she said, grabbing her glasses off the counter, and putting on her coat. "Good luck tonight." She winked at him, and was out the door.

Ron shook his head, chuckling again lightly, before he looked at the clock by the couch.

_6:35._

He had just enough time to look at himself one more time in the mirror, brush his teeth quickly, and then he apparated to Diagon Alley, in search of some flowers to give Hermione.

After he'd purchased a beautiful bouquet of pink and yellow roses and checked his reflection in a nearby store window, Ron apparated to Hermione's.

He stood on a long sidewalk, staring at a small, yet welcoming home. It was painted yellow, and had a wrap-around porch. There were flowers beneath all the white-trimmed windowsills, and the grass on the lawn was dark green and cut immaculately. He'd had no idea that Hermione lived in such a beautiful place, because he'd assumed she lived in a flat, just like every other single witch he knew, and he'd never been anywhere close to where she lived.

He walked up a small pathway to the porch, and took the stairs up slowly. He smoothed his hair down with a sweaty hand and grabbed Hermione's flowers tightly, before ringing the doorbell. He heard footsteps on a hardwood floor and then the door in front of him flew open.

Hermione stood in front of him, looking flustered and yet absolutely breathtaking. She was wearing a strapless gold dress that brought out flecks of gold in her eyes and made her hair, which hung softly around her face, just barely curled, shine in the dim light of the doorway.

"H- H- Hello Hermione," he said, but it came out as a whisper and he had to clear his throat to say, "Hi."

Hermione smiled at him, her lips a soft pink color. "Hello, Ron," she said. "Would you like to come in?"

"Sure," Ron said, feeling very inarticulate. Hermione stepped out of his way, and shut the door behind him. When she came around to face him, he handed her the flowers. "These are for you," he said.

"They're beautiful," Hermione said, blushing. "I'll find a vase for them. Come on into the kitchen."

He followed Hermione past a white staircase and what looked like the living room, into the kitchen. It had marble counters and many polished, gleaming appliances that he was sure he wouldn't know how to use. He tried to lean against a nearby counter nonchalantly, but he was sure he looked like an idiot so he decided to just stand there behind her.

Hermione filled a crystal vase with water, and cut off the bottom of the flowers, before arranging them in the vase and placing it above the sink.

She turned around and said, "Thank you for those Ron. They look perfect in here."

"You're welcome," Ron said, trying not to stare at her. "You have a great place here," he said, gesturing at the tall ceiling above them.

"Thanks. It's been a large project but I love it. I can't stand living in a flat, it's just… not me." She caught his eye and smiled, and Ron grinned back nervously.

"Would you like a tour of the house?" Hermione asked him.

Ron nodded, glad to be led out of the kitchen, which was beginning to feel smaller and smaller.

Hermione showed him the living room and a guest bedroom, along with a small bathroom, before leading him upstairs and across a short hallway. She opened a door into her bedroom and Ron pretended not to be _too _interested. The walls were light blue, and her bed was covered with a thick white comforter. It looked very inviting, but Ron shook his head to clear it of all… thought. "This is my second favorite room," Hermione said, looking down at her feet.

"What's your favorite?" Ron asked. Hermione looked up, and half smiled, before leading him across the hallway into a library.

Go figure.

Hermione stood by the door as Ron looked around the room. It was just as light as her bedroom, because of a large window facing the bookshelves, and Ron was overwhelmed by how many books Hermione had there. They towered over him, almost ominously, and she even had a few boxes full of books beside a table and a few chairs.

He turned to her. "I should've guessed," he said, smiling at her. "Have you read all of these?" He gestured at the bookshelves behind him.

Hermione nodded. "All but a few," she said. "But they're all books I bought a week ago. I spend most of my time at home in here."

Ron shook his head. "You've always been too smart, Hermione."

She shrugged, and smiled. "I hope that's a compliment," she said.

"Of course," Ron said, and there was a moment of tense silence before Ron added, "We should get going soon. Reservation."

Hermione nodded, "I'll go get my coat. Meet you downstairs?"

A few minutes later, Ron led Hermione out of her house, watched as she took a key out of a nearby plant and locked the door, and then followed her down the porch steps. He paused at the edge of the sidewalk, and asked her, "Can I apparate here?"

She nodded. "There's not too many muggles in this neighborhood. You should be fine."

"Alright," Ron said, taking her arm in his softly. "Ready?"

Hermione nodded, and Ron apparated them to a muggle restaurant he'd discovered a few years ago, when he'd once been avoiding Lavender during their too long marriage.

He and Hermione entered together and Ron told the man behind the counter that he needed the table for reserved for . He led them past the main restaurant, up a set of stairs, and into a private room with a balcony, which Ron had paid through the nose to get.

The man took Hermione's coat, and then told them to have a pleasant visit, before he left, and left them alone. Ron led Hermione to the table, and pulled out her chair for her, before sitting down across from her.

She smiled at him, before saying. "This is beautiful, Ron. I love the balcony. The view is amazing."

Ron looked behind his shoulder and out across the balcony. The sun was setting just then, above a few tall buildings on the horizon. She was right: It was beautiful, but turning around he decided it wasn't nearly as beautiful as Hermione was that night, and he couldn't stop himself from saying, "Not as amazing as… you look…tonight."

It didn't come out nearly as smoothly as he'd meant it to.

Hermione blushed but didn't stop smiling or look away, and Ron guessed that meant he hadn't been out of line. He smiled at her before picking up his menu and pretending to peruse it. He already knew what he wanted, but he felt awkward just staring at Hermione.

After they ordered their food, a salad and Spaghetti Carbonera for both of them, and the waiter brought them a bottle of wine, Hermione poured two glasses and then stood up, and made her way over to the balcony. Ron followed her after a moment's hesitation.

Leaning against the rail, she asked him, "So, what do you think you'll do if being in the Cannons doesn't work out?"

"I don't know," Ron said. "I guess not making the team didn't even cross my mind." He looked away from Hermione, feeling a little hurt that she didn't think he'd make the team.

He felt Hermione's hand on his arm. "That didn't come out right," she said, smiling apologetically at him. "I have a lot of confidence in you. I just think you should have a back-up plan, because you never know what'll happen when it comes to certain careers. There are always many factors to consider when it comes to choosing athletes for Professional teams."

Ron chuckled: "You're right," he said. "I guess I'll just have to keep looking for a second choice. You're lucky you've always known what you want to do with your life."

"I haven't always," Hermione said, pausing and looking out at the view. "I mean, before I went to Hogwarts, I felt so lost. I was always smart, mind you, even in primary school, but I wasn't really excited by anything I studied in a muggle school. I think the war taught me what I really wanted, still want, in life. To make the world a better place, starting with the Ministry, starting with every single bogus policy Cornelius Fudge left when it comes to magical creatures."

Hermione's cheeks were flushed and Ron knew he'd misconstrued how passionate Hermione really was about her work: Obviously, just talking about it made her angry _and_ excited. He wished he had as much conviction as Hermione did when it came to work.

Ron wasn't sure what to say. He wanted to compliment her, but he felt that saying what she wanted was amazing felt like a stupid compliment.

Instead he said, "You know, you've already changed the world, Hermione. Without you, Voldemort would still be alive. Thousands of people would be suffering right now if it weren't for you."

"You as well," Hermione said. "You helped just as much as I did, as Harry did."

Ron shook his head. "You did more than me. I mean, I was the coward who ran away, who grew angry and resentful. But you stuck with Harry through it all and you solved a thousand problems no one else could've figured out along the way. I did nothing compared to what you did. You're amazing Hermione."

Hermione smiled bigger than Ron had seen her smile ever before. She wasn't blushing, but she looked ecstatic, and what he'd said had clearly had an effect on her. He took that as a really good sign.

"Ron, you have no idea how much that means to me, especially coming from you. I…" Hermione faltered and took a sip from her glass, but her eyes remained on Ron's.

Ron didn't know how to continue, so he just said, "How's the wine?" before taking a sip himself.

"It's wonderful," Hermione said. "It's all wonderful."

And it really was.

After Ron and Hermione had both eaten their salads and pasta, as well as a delicious slice of chocolate cake, he raised his glass of wine to her and smiled.

"To us," he said. She smiled at him genuinely, and touched her glass to his. After taking a quick sip, Ron asked her, "So… what's next?"

She spoke quickly. "I hate to say this because I'm not ready for this night to end, but I have to be at work early tomorrow, for a press conference, so I think I'd better go home soon."

Ron blinked. That wasn't exactly the answer he was expecting, because he'd meant to ask her what she thought was next in their relationship, but he quickly shrugged it off.

"Okay," he said, putting his glass down on the table, and standing up. He pulled Hermione's chair out for her, and was pleasantly surprised when she tripped over a leg of the table, and fell forward into his arms. He held her up by her elbows, and watched as she looked up at him through wide eyes. He felt himself subconsciously leaning into her, and was a little agitated when she pulled away and pretended like nothing had happened.

He followed her out of the private dining room, and down the stairs, before grabbing her coat of a hook by the door, and helping her into it. He caught a whiff of her scent as she pulled her hair out of the back of her coat, and inhaled deeply. She smelled like strawberries, and something he couldn't recognize.

_Heavenly, _Ron thought.

He opened the door for Hermione, and scanned the street before them. There were a few muggles wandering around, and so Ron gestured to a nearby alleyway that they could apparate from. Hermione followed nervously behind him.

"You ready?" Ron asked her, after she'd reached him. Hermione nodded and took his arm.

They landed on the street outside of Hermione's house, which was slightly off from where he'd meant to land, on the sidewalk.

Ron glanced at her beside him. She was staring up her driveway and at her house, looking slightly anxious. Ron slid his hand down her arm, and took her small hand in his. Her grasp was soft, and warm, but he tell that her hand was slightly sweaty. He was surprised to realize it didn't bother him.

He led her up the driveway while still holding onto her hand, glancing at her every few steps. She looked very beautiful in the dark, her features cast in shadow by the moon.

After they'd climbed up the steps, and turned to face each other, Hermione reached into her pocket and grabbed her wand. She pointed it at the lock on her door, whispered 'Alohamora', and then stowed it back in her coat.

She looked at him, and smiled for the first time in awhile. "Thank you for everything, Ron," she said. "I had a wonderful time."

"Me too," Ron said, his throat suddenly dry. He stared at her for a moment, his eyes traveling down from hers and then over her nose, before resting on her lips: His own parted in desire.

He expected Hermione to move inside, but she stood there with him for a moment, the only sound their breath and the shuffling of Ron's feet on the porch.

She smiled at him one last time, and was reaching for the doorknob when Ron put his hand over hers. She turned back to look at him, her chest rising and falling a little rapidly, and then he leaned into her and brushed his lips softly against hers. He heard her breath catch, and smiled into her mouth, before he felt her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Their lips moved together silently for a few moments, and Ron was just reaching to wrap his arms around her when she pulled away.

Her cheeks were flushed, and her hair was slightly disheveled as she sent him one final longing look, before whispering, "Goodnight, Ron." She pulled the door open quickly, but silently, and then closed it behind herself.

Ron stood on the porch in the moonlight for a moment, stunned, before he apparated away quickly, hoping that Hermione hadn't noticed his pause. On the other side of the door, Hermione had slid down onto the floor, and held one hand to her lips, trying to memorize the way Ron had tasted. She smiled to herself before running up the stairs and flopping onto her bed, before staring up at the ceiling as her heart pounded loudly.

**So what'd you think? Leave a review and let me know! : ) I wont be posting for at least two weeks because i'm headed to camp for a while, but you can fix any fic-craving's you have by reading my other stories! Hope to write again soon: **

**musicmagic7**


	15. Morning

**A/N: Hey! Wow, so, it's been a long time since I've updated and I'm very sorry for that! And also, today is the last day of summer (kill me now) and so it'll be even harder for me to update quickly with school in the mix but I'll try my best. This chapter is a bit short, and a little unexciting, but I wanted to update before tomorrow. : ) Hope you like it. **

Chapter 14: A Second Chance

Ron woke up the morning after his date with Hermione sprawled across his bed in the clothes he'd worn the night before, minus his shoes. He stretched and yawned, before sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. It was then that he remembered the night before, and how beautiful Hermione had looked, the way she'd seemed nervous when he held her hand, and that captivating kiss at the end of the night which had only left him wanting more.

He sighed, and stretched once again, before he stood up, and made his way into the kitchen. He was pouring himself a glass of juice, and watching the eggs he had on the stove, when he heard a familiar tapping noise coming from the Living Room window.

Making his way out of the kitchen, he saw that the owl at the window was Harry's: Ginny had given it to him as a Wedding gift, Ron remembered. He opened the sliding door so that the owl could come in and then took the scroll from his leg. He unfurled it, and read,

_Ron, _

_How was your date with Hermione? I want to hear all about it, _

_Ginny_

Ron put the letter in his back pocket, and wondered why in the world his family was so obsessed with what happened between him and Hermione. It really was none of their business, and it quite frankly pissed him off.

He decided not to write back. "Thanks, Waco, I don't have a reply for you." The owl hooted, and then flew quickly out the open door.

Ron made his way back to the kitchen, and finished his breakfast. He took it into the Living Room, and opened yesterday's Prophet as he ate. He sighed in disgust when he saw a picture of Malfoy on the front page, handing over a check to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"What bull shit," Ron muttered, thinking about that day he'd found Malfoy with his ex-wife. There was no way in hell that that man was donating money without some ulterior motive.

Ron finished his breakfast, took a shower, and then apparated to Harry and Ginny's flat. He'd only been there once or twice because they spent so much time at the Burrow, but he'd always liked their place. He hoped they'd be there when he arrived.

Ron knocked on the door to apartment 452, and waited quietly for a few moments before Harry came to the door.

"Hey Ron," he said, smiling wanly at him. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, and said, "What's up?"

"Just decided to stop by, and ask you why you two are so involved in my relationship with Hermione."

Harry sighed: "Come on in," he said. "I'll go get Ginny."

Ron followed Harry down the short hallway which led to their living room, before sitting down on the leather couch across from the fireplace. The walls were painted a calming blue color, and the room was always well lit.

He heard Harry and Ginny whispering in the adjoining room, and rolled his eyes, yawning. They were so ridiculous sometimes.

After a few moments of silence, Harry came back out of the bedroom with Ginny.

"Hey, Ron," she said, as she sat down next to him on the couch. "Harry would you go get us some butterbeer's?"

"Not for you," Harry said, smiling at her. She smiled back, and then rubbed her stomach softly. Ron blushed, feeling like he was interrupting something.

A few moments later, Harry handed Ron a butterbeer, and then sat down in the chair across from them with his own. "So…" he said, raising an eyebrow at Ron.

"What?" Ron asked, pretending like he didn't know what they wanted.

"Shoot," Ginny said.

Ron sighed. He then launched into a full explanation of the night before with Hermione, minus a few minor details, such as what he'd though of when he'd seen her bedroom, or how good her hand had felt in his as they'd walked up her driveway. He thought about leaving out the kiss, but he guessed Hermione would tell Ginny either way, so he might as well.

When he was finished, Harry was grinning smugly, and Ginny looked pretty pleased. "I'm proud of you, Ron," she said.

Ron shook his head at her. "You're not my mother, Ginny. I don't need you to approve of how I act around the women I like."

Ginny opened her mouth to retort, but stopped abruptly, and then stood up and ran from the room. Ron was worried for a moment, but then Harry stood up, calmly said, "Morning sickness," and then followed her into the bathroom. Ron sat alone on the couch for a few minutes, trying to ignore the sound of Ginny retching, and was on his way into the kitchen to distract himself, when he heard a knock on the door.

Without thinking anything of it, he made his way down the hallway to the front door and opened it.

"_Hermione_?" he choked in surprise. She stood in front of him in a pair of tight, faded jeans and a red blouse, her hair pulled up into a messy bun at the back of her head.

"Oh, Hi Ron," she said, before bringing one of her hands up to rub the back of her neck. She looked at him nervously, before adding, "What are you doing here?"

He gestured for her to come in, and stepped aside: "I was just visiting with Harry and Ginny."

"Oh, I see," she said. She made her way into the living room and Ron followed quietly behind her. When they found the room to still be empty, she turned around to him and asked, "Where are they?"

"Bathroom," Ron said, and Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. Realizing his mistake, he hastily added, "Morning sickness."

Hermione laughed. "Okay, that makes sense." She sat down where he'd been on the couch just minutes before, and Ron decided to sit down beside her. 'I'd offer you a drink" he said, "but I don't know where anything is."

Hermione waved her hand in dismissal. "That's okay," she said.

Ron nodded, and then they sat in an awkward silence as he looked at anything but Hermione, until she spoke: "I, um, wanted to thank you again for last night. I really had a wonderful time."

Ron turned around to face her, and grinned sheepishly. "I did too," he said. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself as much as I did."

Hermione's eyes twinkled and she nodded her head quickly in approval. Ron felt himself leaning in to her again, and he could feel her breath on his nose, until…

"Oh! Hey, Hermione!"

Ron pulled back, his face warm, and found Ginny standing behind the couch, watching them. He grimaced at her, as Hermione greeted her, and then Harry came back into the room with his eyebrows raised. Ron pretended not to notice.

"Sorry about that," Ginny said. "Sometimes I have really bad morning sickness."

She sat down where her husband had sat previously, and Harry brought her a glass of water. He kissed her forehead and then sat on the arm of her chair. Ron noticed out of the corner of his eye that Hermione was looking around the room, avoiding having to watch their slightly intimate moment. He wondered if perhaps he wasn't the only one made uncomfortable by such gestures.

"So," Harry said, "Were you two planning on doing anything today?"

Ron looked over at Hermione. She was blushing furiously and trying hard not to look at him. He turned back to Harry.

"No, we hadn't planned anything."

There was another moments silence, and for a moment Ron considered running out of the room, but then Ginny spoke: "Well, Harry's got to get to work, and Hermione and I were going to go baby shopping so…"

"I'll head to the Burrow and practice for the Cannons Try-outs," Ron said. Ginny nodded and smiled at them, then excused herself to grab her coat, and then Harry hugged them both goodbye. "See you tomorrow for brunch at the Burrow?" he asked.

Ron and Hermione nodded, and then they were left alone.

Hermione spoke in a small voice, her eyes trained on the floor. "I really do want to see you again, Ron," she said. She looked up at him: "I mean, out… somewhere."

Ron didn't reply: He just leaned into her again, his hand brushing the curls out of her face, as hers came up to cup his cheek. He hesitated only a moment before brushing his lips against hers as he had the night before, and pulling her closer.

He reveled in the taste of her, her scent enveloping him, and the sound of her breath growing quicker as she wound her arms around his neck. He shuddered, and hoped that Ginny wouldn't interrupt them again, as Hermione's mouth opened wide enough for him to slip his tongue inside. That was when she pulled away from him, her eyes smiling but her expression solemn.

"Sorry," Ron murmured, looking away from her. He felt her warm fingers pull his chin back towards her, and then she kissed him once quickly, and shook her head.

"It's alright."

Ron decided that was the best time to leave, though he knew it wouldn't be much fun to do so. He stood up from the couch, took one last sip from his butterbeer, and then said, "How does dinner, Monday night, my place sound?"

Hermione nodded. "Sure," she said. "It sounds great."

He smiled at her, shouted a goodbye to Ginny, who was probably listening at the door to her bedroom, and then left the apartment quickly.

_What a morning**. **_

**__****Please Review! : )**


	16. Once Before

**A Second Chance: Chapter 15**

**Sorry it's been a while guys! Enjoy!**

Months Passed and summer turned to fall, then to winter. Ron couldn't even count the number of dates he and Hermione had been on since the first, but he remembered enjoying each of them immensely. Each time they went out, Ron was further reminded of the fun they'd had at Hogwarts, and the more he regretted not talking to Hermione while he'd been married. But he always reminded himself that what was done was done, and he couldn't erase the past. It wasn't worth dwelling on.

The tryouts for the Cannons were scheduled for December 1st, because the season would begin the following spring. Ron spent the week leading up to the 1st practicing at the Burrow with Harry, George and sometimes Charlie. Ginny had been very disappointed when Hermione had reminded her it wouldn't be safe to play, but Hermione's company had surely cheered her up. They often watched him practice from a window in the living room of the burrow.

On the day of the tryouts, Ron arrived at the stadium a few hours early and walked up and down the empty stands, trying to calm down. He was so close to realizing his dream of being on the Cannons and he was begging himself not to screw it up.

Sitting down on one of the bleachers, Ron watched as the other candidates strode out onto the field and sighed. Most of them were much bigger than he, and had obviously been playing their whole lives, instead of just picking it up again recently.

But all of his anxiety disappeared when he saw Hermione waving at him from the bottom of the stands.

Smiling widely to himself, he bounded down the bleachers to greet her and then lifted her off of her feet and kissed her. He heard her laugh in his ear and spun in a circle before gently placing her feet back on the ground. He kept his arms around her middle.

"I'm so glad you came," he said.

Hermione beamed at him. "I wouldn't miss it for the world," she said. "And I left my wand at home, just like you asked."

Ron laughed and nodded. He'd been slightly disappointed when Hermione had told him that she'd helped him earn his spot as keeper on the Gryffindor team but he'd forgotten soon about it: It wasn't that important in the grand scheme of things.

Still, he'd politely asked her to leave her wand at home when she'd told him she might come to the tryout.

He was just leaning in to kiss her again when he heard someone blow a whistle, and call for all the players to fly to the center of the field. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair, and picked up his broom from where he'd dropped it onto the ground.

Hermione straightened the lapel on his uniform and kissed him on the cheek. With her hands still on his shoulders, she whispered, "I love you, Ron."

Ron didn't even have to think about his answer. "I love you too," he said.

And then he swung a leg over his broom and took off, feeling like even if he didn't make the team, it would still be one of the best days of his life.

"Congratulations Ron!"

Ron nearly fell backwards out of the house when he arrived at the Burrow, pulled open the door, and saw his entire family gathered in the front hallway, screaming at him. Hermione steadied him from behind, laughing, and then led him into the house.

"How- How'd you all know I made the team?" he asked.

Ginny smiled. "Hermione sent us a patronus as soon as she found out. We decided to surprise you!" she said.

"You certainly did," Ron laughed as he was lead into the kitchen. His mother had obviously been cooking all day, and there was a banner above the sink reading, "Congratulations Ron, New Cannons Keeper!"

"Wish I could've been there mate," said Harry. He had an arm around Ginny's waist, a hand resting on her large belly. "We had an appointment at St. Mungo's this morning."

"He flew exceptionally," Hermione said, and Ron took her hand in his own, made her sit down at the counter with him.

Hours later, most of the Weasley clan had gone home and only Ron, George, Ginny and Ron's parents remained, along with Harry and Hermione. They were all sitting around the now empty table, drinking the last of the butterbeer. Ron smiled as Hermione laid her head on his shoulder, and he kissed her on the forehead.

"When does practice start?" his mother asked him.

"After New Years," he said. "I met the rest of the team earlier today though, and I think we're all going to get along well."

"Maybe with you the Cannons will actually win a match this season," George said. Ron stuck his tongue out at him childishly, and everyone laughed.

"You bet we will," he said.

Around midnight, he and Hermione said goodbye to his family, and he offered to see her home. She agreed, and they apparated to her house together, before walking up the driveway hand in hand, once again.

"Would you like to come in for a minute?" Hermione asked him as she unlocked the front door.

"Yeah, I'd like that," he said, his hands in his pockets.

He followed Hermione inside, watched as she flicked on the lights, one by one, and led him down the hall to the kitchen. "I hate it when it's dark in here," she said.

Once in the kitchen, Ron sat down on a bar stool, and Hermione filled a glass of water for both of them. They drank together in the silence, and after Hermione had put their glasses in the sink, she came and pulled him over to the couch. He watched as she lit a fire and threw his arm around her shoulder when she sat down next to him on the sofa.

"I'm so excited for you, Ron," she said.

"I am too: Nervous, but excited."

"Don't be," she demanded, tilting her head back to gaze in his eyes. He found himself entranced, as he always was, lost in the brown of her eyes. He kissed her slowly, gently, and they eventually fell asleep in each other's arms, right there on the couch.

The following morning, Ron woke up to find Hermione missing. Slightly worried, he made his way into the kitchen, and yelled for her. There was no response.

He made his way up the stairs and pushed open the first few doors he came to, but she wasn't there. He was just about to push open the door to her bathroom when she came out, wrapped in a white towel and wearing slippers. Her wet hair dripped onto the floor.

"Oh! Ron!" she said, clearly surprised. "You scared me!"

Ron made sure he kept his eyes on Hermione's face, though he was tempted to look down. He smiled wanly at her as she blushed, and he swore he could hear her heart beat as he reached between them and pushed the damp hair off of her forehead, his thumb caressing the soft skin of her forehead.

"Let's go Christmas shopping," she said when he'd pulled his hand away. "I've got to start collecting things for your crazy family." She laughed, kissed him on the cheek, and then went into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. Then she shouted at him, through the door, "Go downstairs! I'll make you some breakfast!"

And Ron did as she ordered.

"Oh, Ginny would love that blouse!"

Ron and Hermione had been shopping nearly all day. He had to admit he was a little exhausted, but in a good way. They'd been through Diagon Alley and a few muggle shopping centers, buying gifts for both Hermione's muggle and wizard friends. Ron himself had found a few good gifts for people he knew, but he'd felt very strange when he'd reached into his pocket, expecting to find Lavender's list of gifts, which she'd given to him every Christmas they were married, to buy for all their acquaintances. He felt very free, buying what _he_ felt was appropriate.

"What do you think?" Hermione asked him, holding up a large red blouse in a maternity store. He'd been a little embarrassed being dragged in there but he knew Ginny would appreciate the gesture if he bought something for her of the like.

"I like it," he said.

Hermione took another look at the blouse, and frowned, before putting it back on the rack. "She's never liked to wear red with her hair."

She took his hand and led him out of the store, and they walked together to a nearby pub. Hermione was opening the door when she stopped dead in her tracks, and let the door swing shut loudly. She stumbled away from the storefront, and ran a gloved hand through her hair, while Ron watched, stunned.

He approached her slowly, his boots crunching a little on the packed snow.

"Hermione? You okay?"

She glanced at him, taking in his concerned expression, and then back at the pub, her eyes wide. Finally, she tore her eyes away from whatever it was that had upset her, and said, "I'm sorry. I- I've been here once before and uh- Well, I should be getting home."

Ron didn't know what to say. He took Hermione's hand in his once again, and began to lead her away. As they walked he kept a watchful eye on her, and was very concerned with the way her eyes seemed to have lost their depth: She looked as though she were reliving a horrible memory.

Once they'd reached the place they'd first apparated to, he pulled her to him and asked her once again if she was alright. Hermione seemed to have regained her composure and smiled at him, though the smile didn't reach her eyes.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said, unconvincingly. "I overreacted a bit."

Ron nodded, though because he had no idea what was going on, he wasn't sure if he should still be worried. There was a tense moment of silence shared between them and then Hermione smiled at him once again.

"I really should be getting home," she said. "I have a lot of work to do."

She kissed him quickly on the cheek and apparated away. He didn't even have time to say goodbye.

**Review Please! Let me know what you thought of Deathly Hallows Pt. 1! I loved it!**


	17. Home

**Here it is Guys! Wish I'd gotten it out for the Holidays, but what can you do? :) Enjoy! (Oh, and I can't get the page breaks to break right now, but it should be pretty obvious when I switch around.) **

The holidays arrived quickly for Ron: He and Hermione went shopping together a few more times for gifts, and spent many warm evenings together on her couch. She seemed to be very excited for Christmas but there was something different about her, ever since that strange day outside the pub; She'd often stare off into the distance, as if remembering something terrible, and if Ron touched her even lightly on the shoulder to wake her from her trance, she'd flinch. There was something sadder about her too, and her behavior often left Ron feeling cold.

But he was determined not to let it go on through the holidays.

Ron invited Hermione to stay at the Burrow with all of his family, and she happily accepted. They both arrived at the Burrow on the 23rd, and were rushed into helping Molly with the decorations: But Ron wasn't bothered at all as he and Hermione hung mistletoe from the kitchen doorway, and spent a while afterword using it for its intended purpose. They both blushed when Ginny struggled through the doorway to grab herself a sandwich, but laughed along with Harry when he followed her in.

It seemed everything was going to be just fine.

Later that night, Ron realized he had one more gift to buy, and spent the night tossing and turning in his bed, scolding himself for not buying it earlier and wondering what he could possibly give her.

He hurried off to Hogsmeade the next morning, before anyone else woke up. But nothing he saw really _fit _Hermione. So he decided to find a muggle shopping center, and search for something there.

He was the only customer in a quaint jewelry store when he found it. It _spoke _Hermione to him, and so he bought it without a second thought, barely paying attention to the price. He didn't think it'd be a problem after he started practice with the Cannons.

On Christmas morning, Ron woke up even earlier than the day before, and made his way down to the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice, and sat down at the table, still in his orange pajamas. He had nearly fallen asleep in his chair when Hermione came into the kitchen.

She crouched down next to him, and ran a hand over his forehead and through his hair. He kept his eyes closed, pretending he really was asleep, and wondered if she knew. He decided she didn't as she sighed, and kissed his forehead.

After she'd turned around and turned the faucet on, he opened his eyes and grinned wide, quite pleased with her private display of affection. He got out of his chair and slowly crept up behind her, wrapping his arms loosely around her middle. "Merry Christmas," he whispered.

She jumped, and nearly elbowed him in the face. Laughing, he stepped back from her, and held his hands up in front of him, in surrender. He grinned sheepishly while Hermione blushed.

"Jeez, Ron," she said, shaking her wild hair out of her eyes, "You scared me!"

"I'm sorry," he said playfully, leaning in to kiss her.

She giggled, and pushed him away. "Not right now, Ronald, I haven't even brushed my teeth."

"I don't care," Ron said, truthfully. Their kiss was over almost as soon as it had begun, but Ron hid his pout and sat back down at the table.

"Pumpkin Juice?" Hermione asked him.

He raised his glass. "Already got some."

She nodded, and poured herself a glass, before downing it in a few large gulps and putting her cup straight in the sink. Ron thought it was kind of sexy.

"I'm gonna go upstairs and get ready," she told him. Ron nodded, but stopped her right outside the kitchen: He had an idea.

"Will you meet me outside, on the Pitch, at eleven tonight?"

Hermione tipped her head to the side, considering him. She smiled. "Sure."

And then she took the stairs two at a time.

Ron thought this Christmas was one of his best yet. After opening gifts in the morning, playing Quidditch with his brothers in the afternoon, and sitting down to a Christmas dinner even bigger than the last, all he really wanted was a good nights sleep. But he still had to give Hermione her gift, which he planned to do at eleven when he met her outside.

At a quarter to eleven, he went upstairs to find grab his coat and scarf, as well as the small square box he'd hidden in his sock drawer. He was about to search for Hermione in the house when he saw her, through the window, already standing outside, under the stars.

He stepped outside into the cold, his breath turning white in the dark night sky. He walked slowly over to where Hermione stood, her gloved hands upturned to catch snowflakes, her eyes shining in the moonlight. He planted himself beside her and listened to her breath in and out slowly: It was a sound he'd begun to love.

She turned to him, and smiled, her hands coming to rest at her side. "Hey," she said.

Ron smiled, and took her hand.

"Beautiful night," he said, as he led her up the short slope to the Pitch.

"Mmm…" she murmured.

When they reached the center of the pitch, Ron turned so that Hermione stood across from him, and fiddled with the box in his pocket, before pulling it out for her. "Merry Christmas," he said again.

Hermione grinned as she took the box from him, and slowly pulled off the long red ribbon he'd had tied around it. When she opened the box, she gasped.

"Oh, Ron, it's beautiful!" she exclaimed, and she lifted the necklace out of its box. It was a simple, square diamond, on a thin gold chain, elegant, and beautiful: Hermione.

She handed it to him, and turned around, lifting her hair off of her neck so that he could put it on her. He fumbled a little with the clasp and brushed his fingers softly against the nape of her neck, sighing.

She turned around and kissed him, harder than she had ever before, her hands clenched around the front of his coat. He responded hungrily, and twisted his hand through her wonderful hair, pulling her even closer. She didn't object, and continued to kiss him as if her life depended on it.

Without thinking much about it, Ron apparated, holding on to Hermione even tighter. They arrived inside his flat, still glued together, but Hermione pulled away from him quickly, and stared at him. Her hair was wild, tangled where he'd run his hands through it, and her lips full. Ron worried for a moment that he'd crossed the line, but Hermione just pulled him back to her.

Bliss was all Ron felt as they stumbled into his bedroom, and ended up on the bed. Hermione's jacket lay in the hallway, his was lost in the living room. He placed fervent kisses along her collarbone, reveling the softness of her skin, and the smell of her perfume on her neck. He lifted up her shirt, and kissed the skin around her belly button, while his hands flew to the button on her jeans: He was struggling to unbutton them when Hermione whimpered. Ron pulled away, a question frozen on his swollen lips, and caught her eye.

"What's wrong?" he asked her.

She turned her head away from him, and squeezed her eyes shut, before whispering, "I'm not ready."

He stared at her a moment, confused, because he'd thought she wanted him too. But he recovered quickly, and pulled her shirt down over her stomach, before wrapping his arms around her small torso.

"I can wait," he told her.

She only nodded, a single tear rolling down her cheek.

Ron stared at her, wishing he knew what to stay, and feeling extremely guilty. But she pressed her small body up against his, and shuddered.

They lay there holding each other for what seemed like hours, before Hermione fell asleep. Ron watched as her chest rose and fell, and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. He reached carefully over her and grabbed the blanket from the bottom of the bed, before draping it over the both of them. Hermione took a shuddering breath in her sleep as Ron grabbed his deluminator from the bedside table and clicked off the light.

As he lay in the dark, there was only one question on Ron's mind: Was Hermione a virgin? He supposed they should've discussed making love before, but the subject had never even been mentioned in passing. He felt like a fool: He'd expected too much from her. He'd been _married _before, whereas Hermione had never even been in a serious relationship, so far as Ron knew. She might've been trying to wait until she was married, but Ron had no idea.

The diamond on her chest glinted with a sliver of moonlight from the window, and Ron hoped that Hermione would forgive him. He didn't want to lose her again. But he knew he'd hurt her a lot.

He moved a strand of hair off of her forehead, and kissed her eyelids. He'd never felt the way he did about Hermione when he was with Lavender. He realized that now, but he didn't regret getting married. It had lead him back home.

When Ron awoke in the morning, the space in his arms where Hermione had laid the night before was empty.

**Sooooo... What'd you think? What is Hermione hiding? I'd love to know what you think, so leave a review! **


	18. Rough

**Enjoy! (This chapter rated T++/M)**

New Years and New Years Day passed uneventfully for Ron: He'd seen Hermione once since Christmas Eve, the 27th if he remembered correctly, but when he'd visited her at her house to fix a lunch date, she'd mumbled something about a court date that she was "too busy preparing for," and hadn't responded to any of his letters since. But Ron, feeling as though Hermione's behavior was a little childish unless she really did have important court date to focus on, knew that Hermione would be at Ginny's baby shower on January 10th, so he planned on seeing her then: He didn't care if he had to kidnap her, as long as he got her alone long enough to talk about things.

...

The morning of the 10th, Ron woke up early, so he took his time showering and making himself a fried egg. He apparated to the Burrow half an hour before the party was set to start.

A large tent had been set up outside, and judging by the temperature outside, Ron guessed they'd place some kind of enchantment on the tent to keep all its inhabitants warm. He found he'd guessed right when he lifted the far edge of the white cloth, and peered inside, a gush of warm air flooding towards him: It was empty except for a table with a light blue tablecloth.

Once inside, Ron called up the stairs for Ginny and Harry. They came slowly down the stairs, Harry carrying a set of assorted napkins and silverware. Ron took the utensils from him, and asked, "How's the set up going?"

"Good," Ginny said, as she pulled Harry into the kitchen behind her. "You take those outside Ron, and Hermione should be right out with the plates."

Sighing, Ron made his way outside and ducked under the tent once again. He'd been arranging a set of forks around the table when Hermione came into the tent: She

nearly stopped short when she saw him.

"Oh, Ron," she said nervously, "I didn't know you would be here."

Ron wanted desperately to kiss her right then, but he held back, because he didn't think that was the right way to start this particular conversation. He noticed she was wearing his necklace.

"Hermione," he said, setting a handful of forks on the table, "Are you avoiding me?"

Hermione said nothing, but Ron watched as she blinked a few times in quick succession.

"I'm sorry about Christmas night," he said, closing the distance between them just slightly. "I should've asked you how you felt about," he blushed, "_that _before I expected anything from you."

Hermione looked as though she wanted desperately to say something, but couldn't find the words. She took a minute, putting the plates she been carrying in a stack on the table, and then turned back around to him.

"It's alright, Ron," she said quietly, as if ashamed. "I encouraged you… I wanted it as much as you did."

"Then why-" he began, but she cut him off by raising her hand.

"I was scared," she said, "but not for the reason you think."

Ron didn't know what to say: he was clueless. He decided on, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Hermione nodded, her eyes already overflowing with tears as she looked down at her feet. Ron resisted the urge to pull her tight too him, because he was desperate for information, but he held her at arms length and rubbed her arms, through her blue sweater, with the tips of his thumbs, encouraging her.

Hermione looked up at him.

"About a month after you got married," she began, "I was in a pub- that pub we saw that first day shopping. I was, well, _upset, _to put it mildly, and there was a- a man there. He paid for my firewhiskey, had one of his own. We kept drinking together, all night long, and we, I guess, _ended up, _at my place."

She blanched at the look of pure terror on Ron's face, and hurried to say, "I went with him, he didn't _make me," _and thenshe huffed, her tears falling faster now. Ron was still scared, and he pulled her closer to him as if to shield her from her own past.

"He was… He didn't… He didn't _rape _me," she said, nearly a whisper, nearly collapsing in Ron's arms, "But he was so rough."

Silence.

"And then he left me even more broken than I'd been before."

She put a hand to her mouth, and sobbed then. Ron wrapped his arms around her, too shocked to cry, though he wanted to burst into tears along with her. He couldn't imagine… _his _Hermione, and that _bastard. _

"Who was it?"

Hermione shook her head where it rested on his chest, her fingers coiled tightly around the fabric of his shirt. "It doesn't matter," she managed to whisper.

"Yes it does," Ron said, loosening his hold on her arms in anger. At that moment, he wanted to hurt the man who had hurt her more than anything in the world.

Hermione shook her head again, continuously, as if disturbed. Ron pulled her against him again.

But she pulled away, her arms hanging limply by her side. "You'll hate me."

"Never."

Hermione whispered the name so quietly Ron almost didn't believe she'd said it: But she did.

"Draco Malfoy."

...

Ron didn't remember apparating. He didn't remember walking up the long drive, his hands in fists by his sides. He didn't remember pushing the house elf who answered the door aside, or storming through the various rooms until he found what he was looking for.

But he would always remember pounding Malfoy so hard that blood ran over the carpet. He would always remember Malfoy's pleas for mercy, his mother's screams. He would always remember the taste of revenge, though not nearly sweet enough, on his tongue.

He could hardly remember Harry pulling him away and forcing him back to the Burrow.

But he'd never forget the look on Hermione's face.

**Please leave a review. **


	19. A Lot

**Enjoy!**

Ron spent the night at the Burrow. His mother, after forcing the whole story from Hermione's lips, had insisted they both stay to calm down. Hermione attended the baby-shower, as did Ron, but he could only last so long just sitting at the table under the tent.

He was still fuming, scared, and confused: He was dazed, and very unhappy. But most of all, he felt sorry for Hermione, and all that she had been through. As he watched her carefully from across the table, he could tell that she was just as upset as he was, but she was putting on a very convincing brave-face.

"Would you pass me the salt, Ron?" Luna asked airily, but he hardly heard her and stood up from the table, before striding quickly out of the tent.

"Wrackspurts," Harry whispered to Luna, reaching over Ron's vacant plate and handing it to her.

And so Ron spent the rest of the evening in his room, looking over the backyard.

….

It was after midnight when Ron, sitting on his bed in the dark and massaging his knuckles, heard his door crack open. Hermione crept into the room from the shadows, her feet bare and her cheeks pale in the moonlight. She just stood there in front of him, completely still, her eyes, for the first time in a while, free from tears.

"What's up?" Ron asked her, and it came out more angrily than he'd intended.

Hermione winced. "Can I sit down?" she asked him, and he nodded, before looking back out the window. He felt her weight on the bed beside him, but didn't turn around.

They'd been sitting in silence for at least ten minutes when Ron said, "Why didn't you tell me this earlier?"

Hermione sighed. "I was scared of your reaction," she said, and then, laughing bitterly, she added, "I guess I was right to worry."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ron asked.

"Come on, Ron. You disappeared into thin air moments after I told you, and didn't even give me a chance to expl-"

He cut her off, hopping to his feet angrily. "What explanation could there possibly be! You- " he paused, "Rough or not, you initiated it!"

Hermione stood up too: "If you'll just listen to me!" she said, throwing her hands up in the air. "It doesn't bother you that I had sex with someone, or that it scarred me, all you care about is that it was _Malfoy!"_

"Exactly, Hermione! That's my problem with it! Why in the world were you even _talking_ to him that night?"

"I was lonely!" she shouted at him, her face growing red, even in the dark of the night. "You'd just been married, and I was devastated, especially since we hadn't even spoken for half a year! And I'd tried everything, work, friends, food, everything to try and distract myself but nothing worked! So I thought, I should just go get _good and drunk, _and maybe it would help! And there he was, sitting at the bar, someone I could take my anger out on without any justification, and _he was paying for the firewhiskey!_ And he tricked me! He _listened to me!"_

"So, what you're saying is, you don't regret it at all?" Ron's voice rose so loud he was sure someone else would hear him, but he didn't care.

"Of _course _I regret it!" Hermione said. "I regretted it as soon as he touched me! But I was drunk Ron, and I felt dead anyway, so it hardly mattered to me at the time!"

Ron quieted down. "I still don't get it," he said, sitting back down on the bed, and putting his head in his hands. He glared at Hermione's from between his fingers.

"I've always loved you, Ron," Hermione said. "That's why."

Ron pulled his head up: "So you're blaming me?"

Hermione shook her head sadly. "No. It was still all my fault." She sat down on the bed with him again.

"I loved you Ron, as I still do now… But I loved you to the point of an obsession. You're all I ever thought about, even after…"

"After what?"

"Even after you told me that- that no one would ever feel that way about me… among other things. You know, back when we had that last argument."

Ron was stunned. He'd forgotten completely about that fight, and he'd had no idea what it was he'd said that had severed their relationship. But there it was, and he couldn't believe he'd ever said such a thing. Not only was it a downright lie- he was living proof, sitting next to her in the dark, trying to sort things out- but it was a disgusting thing to say.

Hermione smiled grimly at the horrified look on his face. "We both said terrible things that night," she said, shrugging sadly. "You just didn't let them stick with you."

Ron wanted to wrap his arms around her again, but he was still a little upset with her, so he settled with putting a hand on her knee.

That sat in silence once again, Hermione's hand on top of Ron's on her knee.

"I hope we can work through all this Ron," Hermione said, "without too much trouble. I- I love you… a lot."

Ron turned and smiled stiffly at her. "Yeah…" he said, massaging the nape of his neck with a calloused hand. She was over the threshold when he stood up: He had to tell her.

"I love you too, Hermione. A lot."

She smiled, and rubbed her neck in the way he'd just done. "Goodnight."

**Phew... Glad I got that off my chest! Please Review. : )**


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